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I 


By  SAMUEL   SMILES. 


THRIFT.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 
Contents  :  Industry.— Habits  of  Thrift.— Improvidence.— Means  of  Saving. 
— Examples  of  Thrift.— Methods  of  Economy.- Life  Assm-ance.- Savings 
Banks. —  Little  Things.  —  Masters  and  Men. —  The  Crossleys. —  Living 
Above  the  Means. —  Great  Debtors.  —  Itichea  and  Charity.  —  HealtlV 
Homes. — Art  of  Living. 

CHARACTER.    12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 
Contents:  Influence  of  Character.— Home  Power.— Companionship.— Ex- 
ample.— Work. —  Courage. —  Self-Con  trol. —  Duty. —  Truthfulness. —  Tem- 
per.— Manner.— Companionship  of  Books.— Companionship  in  Marriage. 
—Discipline  of  Experience. 

SELF-HELP;  with  Illustrations  of  Character,  Conduct,  and  Perseverance. 
A  New  Edition.  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 
Contents:  Self-Help,  National  and  Individnal.- Leaders  of  Industry,  In- 
ventors and  Producers. — Three  Great  Potters. — Application  and  Persever- 
ance.—Helps  and  Opportunities. — Workers  in  Art. —  Industry  and  the 
Peerage. — Energy  and  Courage.— Men  of  Business.— Money. — Self-Cul- 
ture.—Example.— Character. 

HISTORY  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS.  The  Huguenots:  their  Settlements, 
Churches,  and  Industries  in  England  and  Ireland.  With  an  Appendix  re- 
lating to  the  Huguenots  in  America.    Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

THE  HUGUENOTS  AFTER  THE  REVOCATION.  The  Huguenots  in 
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Country  of  the  Vaudois.    Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

LIFE  OF  THE  STEPHENSONS.  The  Life  of  George  Stephenson,  and  of 
his  Son  Robert  Stephenson  ;  comprising,  also,  a  History  of  the  Invention 
and  Introduction  of  the  Railway  Locomotive.  With  Portraits  and  nu- 
merous Illustrations.    Svo,  Cloth,  f3  00. 

ROUND  THE  WORLD ;  including  a  Residence  in  Victoria,  and  a  Journey 
by  Rail  across  North  America.  By  a  Boy.  Edited  by  Samuel  Smiles. 
With  Illustrations.    12mo,  Cloth,  |1  50. 


Published  by  HABPER  &  BPvOTHERS,  New  York. 

Sent  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part  of  the  United  States  or  Canada, 
on  receipt  of  the  price. 


THRIFT. 


T 


Bz  SAMUEL  SMILES, 

AUTHOE  OF  "cnARACTEE,"  **  BELF-HELr,"  ETC. 


"Be  thrifty,  but  not  covetous:  therefore  give 
Thy  need,  thine  honor,  and  thy  friend  his  due. 
Never  was  scraper  brave  man.    Get  to  live^ 
Then  live,  and  use  it:  else  it  is  not  true 
That  thou  hast  gotten.    Surely  use  alone 
Makes  money  not  a  contemptible  stone." 

Geoboe  Hebbect. 

"To  catch  Dame  Fortune's  golden  smile, 

Assiduous  wait  upon  her; 
And  gather  gear  by  ev'ry  wUe 

That's  justfy'd  by  Honor: 
Not  for  to  hide  it  in  a  hedge, 

Nor  for  a  train  attendant; 
But  for  the  glorious  privilege 

Of  being  Independent." 

KOBEKT  BrrBNS. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN     SQUARE, 

1876. 


533 

E^ 

S  6? 

A  FABLE. 

A  GRASSHOPPER,  half  starved  with  cold  and  hunger,  came  to  a 
well-stored  bee-hive  at  the  approach  of  winter,  and  humbly  begged  the 
bees  to  relieve  his  wants  with  a  few  drops  of  honey. 

One  of  the  bees  asked  him  how  he  had  spent  his  time  all  the  sum- 
mer, and  why  he  had  not  laid  up  a  store  of  food  like  them. 

"Truly,"  said  he,  "I  spent  my  time  very  merrily,  in  drinking,  dan- 
cing, and  singing,  and  never  once  thought  of  winter." 

"Our  plan  is  very  different,"  said  the  bee :  "we  work  hard  in  the 
summer  to  lay  by  a  store  of  food  against  the  season  when  we  foresee 
we  shall  want  it ;  but  those  who  do  nothing  but  drink,  and  dance,  and 
sing  in  the  summer  must  expect  to  starve  in  the  winter." 


I 


PREFACE 


THIS  book  is  intended  as  a  sequel  to  "  Self-help " 
and  "  Character."  It  might,  indeed,  have  appear- 
ed as  an  introduction  to  these  volumes ;  for  Thrift  is 
the  basis  of  Self-help,  and  the  foundation  of  much  that 
is  excellent  in  Character. 

The  author  has  already  referred  to  the  Use  and  Abuse 
of  Money ;  but  the  lesson  is  worthy  of  being  repeated 
and  enforced.  As  he  has  already  observed,  some  of 
the  finest  qualities  of  human  nature  are  intimately  re- 
lated to  the  right  use  of  money — such  as  generosity, 
honesty,  justice,  and  self-denial — as  well  as  the  prac- 
tical virtues  of  economy  and  providence.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  are  their  counterparts  of  avarice,  fraud,  in- 
justice, and  selfishness,  as  displayed  by  the  inordinate 
lovers  of  gain ;  and  the  vices  of  thoughtlessness,  extrav- 
agance, and  improvidence  on  the  part  of  those  who  mis- 
use and  abuse  the  means  intrusted  to  them. 

Sir  Henry  Taylor  has  observed  that  "  industry  must 
take  an  interest  in  its  own  fruits,  and  God  has  appoint- 
ed that  the  mass  of  mankind  shall  be  moved  by  this 
interest,  and  have  their  daily  labor  sweetened  by  it." 
The  earnings  and  savings  of  industry  should  be  intelli- 
gent for  a  purpose  beyond  mere  earnings  and  savings. 
We  do  not  work  and  strive  for  ourselves  alone,  but  for 
the  benefit  of  those  who  are  dependent  upon  us.  In- 
dustry must  know  how  to  earn,  how  to  spend,  and  how 
to  save.  The  man  who  knows,  like  St.  Paul,  how  to 
spare  and  how  to  abound  has  a  great  knowledge. 


6  Preface, 

Every  man  is  bound  to  do  what  he  can  to  elevate  his 
social  state,  and  to  secure  his  independence.  For  this 
purpose  he  must  spare  from  his  means  in  order  to  be 
independent  in  his  condition.  Industry  enables  men  to 
earn  their  living;  it  should  also  enable  them  to  learn 
to  live.  Independence  can  only  be  established  by  the 
exercise  of  forethought,  prudence,  frugality,  and  self  de- 
nial. To  be  just  as  well  as  generous,  men  must  deny 
themselves.     The  essence  of  generosity  is  self-sacrifice. 

The  object  of  this  book  is  to  induce  men  to  employ 
their  means  for  worthy  purposes,  and  not  to  waste 
them  upon  selfish  indulgences.  Many  enemies  have  to 
be  encountered  in  accomplishing  this  object.  There 
are  idleness,  thoughtlessness,  vanitj%  vice,  intemper- 
ance. The  last  is  the  worst  enemy  of  all.  Numerous 
cases  are  cited  in  the  course  of  the  following  book, 
which  show  'that  one  of  the  best  methods  of  abating 
the  curse  of  Drink  is  to  induce  old  and  young  to  prac- 
tice the  virtue  of  Thrift. 

Much  of  this  book  was  written,  and  some  of  it  pub- 
lished, years  ago ;  but  an  attack  of  paralysis,  which 
compelled  the  author  to  give  up  writing  for  some  time, 
has  delayed  its  jDublication  until  now.  For  much  of 
the  information  recently  received  he  is  indebted  to  Ed- 
ward Crossley,  Esq.,  Mayor  of  Halifax ;  Edward  Ak- 
royd,  Esq.,  Halifax  ;  George  Chetwynd,  Esq.,  General 
Post-office;  S.  A.  Nichols,  Esq.,  Over  Darwen;  Jere- 
miah Head,  Esq.,  Middlesborough ;  Charles  W.  Sikes, 
Esq.,  Huddersfield ;  and  numerous  other  correspond- 
ents in  Durham,  Renfrewshire,  Yorkshire,  Lancashire, 
Staffordshire,  and  South  Wales. 

The  author  trusts  that  the  book  will  prove  useful  and 
helpful  toward  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  intended. 

London,  November,  1875. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INDUSTRY. 

Private  Economy. — Useful  Labors. — Our  Birthright. — Results  of  La- 
bor.— Necessity  for  Labor. — Industry  and  Intellect. — Thrift  and 
Civilization. — Thrifty  Industry. — Thrifty  Economy Page  13 

CHAPTER  IL 

HABITS    OF   TimiFT. 

Workmen  and  Capital. — Habits  of  Economy. — Self-indulgence. — Re- 
sults of  Thriftlessness. — Uses  of  Saved  Money. — Extravagant  Liv- 
ing.— Bargain-buying. — Thrift  and  Unthrift. — Johnson  on  Econo- 
my.— Self-respect. — Self  -  help..— Uncertainty  of  Life. — Laws  of 
Mortality. — Will  Nobody  Help  Us? — Prosperous  Times  the  Least 
Prosperous. — National  Prosperity. — Moral  Independence 23 

CHAPTER  IIL 

IMPROVIDENCE. 

Misery  and  Wealth.— The  Uncivilized.— The  East  End.— Edward 
Denison.— Thrift  in  Guernsey.— Improvidence  and  Misery.— So- 
cial Degi-adation. — Fatalism  of  Improvidence.— Self -taxation. — 
Slowness  of  Progress. — A  Gratifying  Contrast 43 

CHAPTER  IV. 

MEANS    OF   SAVING. 

Earnings  of  Operatives. — Colliers  and  Iron -workers. — Earnings  of 
Colliers.— The  Revelers.— Lord  Elcho  and  the  Colliers.— High 
Wages  and  Heavy  Losses. — High  Wages  and  Drink. — Sensual  In- 
dulgence.— Indifference  to  Well-being.— Hugh  Miller's  Experience. 
— Mr.  Roebuck's  Advice.— Survival  of  Slavery. — Extinction  of 
Slaverv.— Power  Unexercised.— Earnings   and  Character. — Igno- 


8  GonterLts. 

"  ranee  is  Power. — Results  of  Ignorance. — Increase  of  Knowledge. 
— Education  not  Enough. — ^Words  of  Sir  Arthur  Helps. — Divine 
Uses  of  Knowledge. — Public  -  school  Education. — Words  of  Wil- 
liam Felkin. — Self-dependence Page  55 

CHAPTER  V. 

EXAMPLES   OF  THRIFT. 

Spirit  of  Order. — Examples  of  Economy. — David  Hume. — Rev.  Rob- 
ert Walker.  —  Self- application.  — Distinguished  Miners.  —  George 
Stephenson. — James  Watt.— Working  for  Independence. — Work- 
ing for  Higher  Things. — Work  and  Culture. — Richardson  and  Greg- 
ory.— Results  of  Application. — Distinguished  Artists. — Canovaand 
Lough. — Lough's  Success. — Words  of  Lord  Derby. — James  Na- 
Bmyth. — Biidgewater  Foundry. — Advice  to  Young  Men 80 

CHAPTER  VI. 

METHODS    OF    ECONOMY. 

Keeping  Regular  Accounts.— Generosity  and  Forethought.— Prudent 
Economy. — A  Dignity  in  Saving. — Self-improvement. — Causes  of 
Failure. — The  Price  of  Success. — Power  of  Combining. — Principle 
of  Association. — Savings  of  Capital. — Loss  by  Strikes. — Money 
Thrown  Away. — Industrial  Societies. — Co-operative  Companies. — 
Equitable  Pioneers. — News  and  Reading  Rooms. — Darwen  Co-op- 
eratives.— Spread  of  Co-operation. — Thrift  Conservative. — Uses  of 
Investments. — Building  Societies 105 

CHAPTER  VII. 

ECONOMY  IN   LIFE-ASSURANCE. 

Co-operation  in  Assurance. — Improvidence  Cruel. — Compensation  of 
Assurance. — Benefit  Societies. — French  and  Belgian  Thrift. — 
Workmen's  Societies. — Manchester  Unity. — Duty  and  Dinners. — 
Low  Rates  of  Contribution. — Failure  of  Friendly  Societies. — Im- 
provement by  Experience. — Defects  will  Disappear 127 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

SAVINGS-BANKS. 

Direct  Saving. — Uses  of  Saved  Money. — Beginnings  of  Savings-banks. 
— ^Dr.  Duncan  of  Ruthwell. — Establishment  of  Savings-banks. — 
Classes  of  Depositors. — Magic  of  Drill. — Military  Savings-banks. — 


Contents.  9 

Savings  of  Soldiers. — Soldiers  Abroad. — Deposits  in  Savings-banks, 
— Savings  at  Bilston. — Savings  of  Working-men. — Penny  Banks. — 
Charles  W.  Sikes. — Mechanics'  Institute  Banks. — The  Poor  Man's 
Purse. — Depositors  in  Penny  Banks. — Influence  of  Penny  Banks. 
— Bradford  Savings-bank. — Influence  of  "Women. — Early  Lessons 
in  Thrift. — Belgian  Schools. — Facilities  for  Saving. — Extension  of 
Savings-banks. — Money-order  Offices. — Post-office  Savings-banks. 
— Thriftlessness  of  the  Masses. — Formation  of  Penny  Savings- 
banks. — Mechanics'  Savings-banks. — Savings  of  Artisans. — Sav- 
ings in  Preston Page  140 

CHAPTER  IX. 

LITTLE    THINGS. 

Luck  and  Labor.— Neglect  of  Little  Things.—"  It  will  Do !"— Spend- 
ing of  Pennies. — The  Thrifty  Woman. — A  Helpful  Wife. — A  Man's 
Daily  Life. — The  Two  Workmen. — Eights  and  Habits. — Influence 
of  the  Wife. — A  Penny  a  Day. — The  Power  of  a  Penny. — Roads 
and  Railways. — Joseph  Baxendale. — Business  Maxims 177 

CHAPTER  X. 

MASTERS   AND    MEN. 

Want  of  Sympathy. — Masters  and  Servants. — Christian  Sympathy. — 
Competition. — What  Capital  Represents. — Workmen  and  Employ- 
ers.— The  Ashworths. — New  Eagley  Mills. — Improved  Work-peo- 
ple.— Public  Spirit  of  Manufacturers. — Mr.  Lister,  of  Bradford. — 
Mr.  Forster's  Speech. — Great  INIen  Wise  Savers. — Sir  Titus  Salt. — 
Saltaire. — Its  Institutions. — Music  and  Sobriety. — Other  Generous 
Employers. — Mr.  Akroyd,  Halifax. — Yorkshire  Penny  Bank. — 
Origin  of  the  Bank. — How  to  Help  the  Poor. — Saving  Helps  Sobri- 
ety.—Drunkenness  Put  Down.— " Childish  Work" 197 

CHAPTER  XL 

THE   CROSSLETS — MASTERS   AND   MEN   (CONTINUED). 

John  Crossley. — Martha  Crossley.— A  Courtship  Begun. — A  Court- 
ship Concluded. — John  Crossley  Begins  Business. — Dean  Clough 
Mill. — The  Crossley  Family. — Sir  Francis  Crossley. — Martha 
Crossley's  Vow. — People's  Park,  Halifax. — Martha's  Vow  Fulfilled. 
— Co-operation  of  Colliers. — Partnership  of  Industry. — Other  Co- 
operative Schemes. — Jeremiah  Head. — Ne^vport  Rolling-mills. — 
Bonuses  to  Workmen. — Mr.  Carlyle's  Letter.— A  Contrast. — A 


10  Contents. 

Hundred  Years  Ago. — Popular  Amusements. — Improvement  of 
Manners. — English  Mechanics  and  Workmen. — English  Engineers 
and  Miners. — Swiftness  of  Machinery. — Foreign  Workmen. — Prov- 
ident Habits  of  Foreigners Page  223 

CHAPTER  XII. 

LIVING   BEYOND   THE   MEANS. 

Hypocrisy  and  Debt. — Conventionalism. — Keeping  up  Appearances. 
— Exclusive  Circles. — Women  and  Exclusiveness. — Women  and 
Extravagance. — Running  into  Debt. — The  Temptation  of  Shop- 
keepers.—  Temptations  to  Crime. —  How  Crime  is  Committed. — 
Love  of  Dress. — "Gentlemen." — Reckless  Expenditure. — Knowl- 
edge of  Arithmetic. — Marriage. — Happy  Tempers. — Responsibili- 
ties of  Marriage. — Marriage  Not  a  Lottery. — The  Man  who  couldn't 
Say  "No."— The  Courage  to  Say  " No."— " Respectable "  Funer- 
als. — Funeral  Extravagance. — John  Wesley's  Will. — Funeral  Re- 
form   252 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

GREAT  DEBTORS. 

Greatness  and  Debt.  —  Seedy  Side  of  Debt.  —  Running  up  Bills. — 
Loan  Clubs. — Genius  and  Debt. — Fox  and  Sheridan. — Sheridan's 
Debts, — Lamartine. — Debts  of  Men  of  Science. — Debts  of  Artists. 
— Italian  Artists. — Haydon. — The  Old  Poets. — Savage  and  John- 
son. — Sterne.  — Steele.  —  Goldsmith's  Debts.  — Byron.  — Byron's 
Debts. —The  Burden  of  Debt. —Sydney  Smith. -De  Foe  and 
Southey. — Sir  Walter  Scott, — Scott's  Debts  and  Labors. — Great 
Poor  Men. — Johnson's  Advice. — Genius  and  Debts. — Literary 
Men 278 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

RICHES   AND   CHARITY. 

Helping  the  Helpless.— Dr.  Donne. — Rich  People.— Love  of  Gold. 
— Eagerness  to  be  Rich.— Riches  and  Poverty. — Riches  in  Old 
Age. — Riches  no  Claim  to  Distinction. — Democrats  and  Riches, — 
Saladin  the  Great. — Don  Jose  de  Salamanca. — Compensations 
of  Poverty. — Risks  of  Richness. — Honest  Poverty. — Poverty  and 
Happiness. — Charity. — Evils  of  Money-giving. — Philanthropy  and 
Charity. — How  to  help  the  Poor, — Rich  People's  Wills. — Stephen 
Girard.— Girard  and  Helm.— The  Girard  College. —Thomas  Guy. 


Contents.  11 

—  Educational  Charities. — Benefactors  of  the  Poor. — The  Nav\7's 
Home Page  30G 

CHAPTER  XV. 

HEALTHY     HOMES. 

Healthy  Existence. — Necessity  for  Pure  Air. — The  Fever  Tax. — The 
Arcadians. — The  Rural  Poor. — Healthy  Homes. — Influence  of  the 
Home. — Intelligence  of  Women. — Unhealthy  Homes. — Health  and 
Drunkenness.  —  Wholesome  Dwelhngs. —  Edwin  Chadwick. —  Ex- 
pectancy of  Life. — The  Poor-laws. — The  Sanitary  Idea. — Fever  in 
Whitechapel.  —  The  Sanitary  Inquiry. —  Sanitary  Commission. — 
Sanitaiy  Science. — Results  of  Uncleanness. — "Irish Fever." — That 
Terrible  Nobody! — Somebody  is  to  Blame. — Wholesome  Homes 
Necessary. — Home  Reform.  —  Domestic  Improvement. — Dirt  and 
Immorality. — "  Dangerous  Classes." — Worship  in  Washing, — Com- 
mon Things  at  Home. — Knowledge  of  Physiology — Domestic  Econ- 
omy.—  English  Cookery. — Worthlessness  of  111  -  managing  Wives. 
— Foreign  Inns. — Morals  and  Cookery. — Work  for  Ladies. — Joseph 
Corbet's  Story. — Instruction  of  Women 335 

CHAPTER  XVL 

THE   ART    OF   LIVING. 

Art  of  Living  Exemplified. — Taste  an  Economist. — Contrasts  in  Cot- 
tage Life. — Difference  in  Workmen. — Living  at  Home. — Home 
and  Comfort. — Comfortable  People. — Beneficence  of  House  Thrift. 
— Organization  and  JNJethod. — Industry  and  Punctuality. — Man- 
agement of  Temper. — Good  Manners. — Habitual  Politeness. — 
French  Manners. — Happiness  in  Good  Manners. — Amusement. — 
Recreation. — Influence  of  Music. — Household  Elegance. — Elegance 
of  Flowers. — Common  Enjoyments. — The  Beauty  of  Art. — Por- 
traits of  Great  Men. — Art  at  Home. — Final  Art  of  Living 375 

Index 401 


THRIFT. 


CHAPTER  I. 


INDTJSTEY. 


*'Not  what  I  have,  but  what  I  do,  is  my  kingdom." — Carltle. 

"Productive  industry  is  the  only  capital  which  enriches  a  people, 
and  spreads  national  prosperity  and  well-being.  In  all  labor  there  is 
profit,  says  Solomon.  What  is  the  science  of  Political  Economy  but 
a  dull  sermon  on  this  text  ?" — Sajiuel  Laing. 

*'God  provides  the  good  things  of  the  world  to  sei-ve  the  needs  of 
nature,  by  the  labors  of  the  plowman,  the  skill  and  pains  of  the  artisan, 

and  the  dangers  and  traflSc  of  the  merchant The  idle  person  is 

like  one  that  is  dead,  unconcerned  in  the  changes  and  necessities  of 
the  world ;  and  he  only  lives  to  spend  his  time,  and  eat  the  fruits  of 
the  earth :  like  a  vermin  or  a  wolf,  when  their  time  comes  they  die 
and  perish,  and  in  the  mean  time  do  no  good." — Jeremy  Taylor. 

*' Tor  the  structure  that  we  raise 
Time  is  with  materials  filled ; 
Our  to-days  and  yesterdays 
Are  the  blocks  with  which  we  build." — Longfello-vt. 

THRIFT  began  with  civilization.  It  began  when 
men  found  it  necessary  to  provide  for  to-morrow 
as  well  as  for  to-day.  It  began  long  before  money  was 
invented. 

Thrift  means  private  economy.  It  includes  domes- 
tic economy,  as  well  as  the  order  and  management  of 
a  family. 

"While  it  is  the  object  of  Private  Economy  to  create 
an^  promote  the  well-being  of  individuals,  it  is  the  ob- 


14  Private  Economy.  [chap.  i. 

ject  of  Political  Economy  to  create  and  increase  the 
wealth  of  nations. 

Private  and  public  Avealth  have  the  same  origin. 
Wealth  is  obtained  by  labor;  it  is  preserved  by  sav- 
ings and  accumulations;  and  it  is  increased  by  dili- 
gence and  perseverance. 

It  is  the  savings  of  individuals  which  compose  the 
wealth — in  other  words,  the  well-being — of  every  na- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  wastefulness  of 
individuals  which  occasions  the  impoverishment  of 
states.  So  that  every  thrifty  person  may  be  regarded 
as  a  public  benefactor,  and  every  thriftless  person  as  a 
public  enemy. 

There  is  no  dispute  as  to  the  necessity  for  Private 
Economy.  Every  body  admits  it,  and  recommends  it. 
But  with  respect  to  Political  Economy  there  are  nu- 
merous discussions — for  instance,  as  to  the  distribution 
of  capital,  the  accumulations  of  property,  the  incidence 
of  taxation,  the  poor  -  laws,  and  other  subjects — into 
which  we  do  not  propose  to  enter.  The  subject  of 
Private  Economy,  of  Thrift,  is  quite  sufficient  by  itself 
to  occupy  the  pages  of  this  book. 

Economy  is  not  a  natural  instinct,  but  the  growth 
of  experience,  example,  and  forethought.  It  is  also 
the  result  of  education  and  intelligence.  It  is  only 
when  men  become  wise  and  thoughtful  that  they  be- 
come frugal.  Hence  the  best  means  of  making  men 
and  women  provident  is  to  make  them  wise. 

Prodigality  is  much  more  natural  to  man  than  thrift. 
The  savage  is  the  greatest  of  spendthrifts,  for  he  has  no 
forethought,  no  to-morrow.  The  prehistoric  man  saved 
nothing.  He  lived  in  caves,  or  in  hollows  of  the 
ground  covered  with  branches.  He  subsisted  on  shell- 
fish which  he  picked  up  on  the  sea-shore,  or  upon  hipa 
and  haws  which  he  gathered  in  the  woods.  He  killed 
animals  with  stones.     lie  lay  in  wait  for  them,  or  ran 


CHAP.  I.]  Useful  Labors.  15 

them  down  on  foot.  Then  he  learned  to  use  stones 
as  tools ;  making  stone  arrow-heads  and  spear-points, 
thereby  utilizing  his  labor,  and  killing  birds  and  ani- 
mals more  quickly. 

The  original  savage  knew  nothing  of  agriculture. 
It  w-as  only  in  comparatively  recent  times  that  men 
gathered  seeds  for  food,  and  saved  a  portion  of  them 
for  next  year's  crop.  When  minerals  ■were  discover- 
ed, and  fire  was  applied  to  them,  and  the  minerals  be- 
came smelted  into  metal,  man  made  an  immense  stride. 
He  could  then  fabricate  hard  tools,  chisel  stone,  build 
houses,  and  proceed  by  unwearying  industry  to  devise 
the  manifold  means  and  agencies  of  civilization. 

The  dweller  by  the  ocean  burned  a  hollow  in  a  felled 
tree,  launched  it,  went  to  sea  in  it,  and  fished  for  food. 
The  hollowed  tree  became  a  boat,  held  together  with 
iron  nails.  The  boat  became  a  galley,  a  ship,  a  paddle- 
boat,  a  screw  steamer,  and  the  world  was  opened  up 
for  colonization  and  civilization. 

Man  would  have  continued  a  savage,  but  for  the 
results  of  the  useful  labors  of  those  who  preceded  him. 
The  soil  was  reclaimed  by  them,  and  made  to  grow 
food  for  human  uses.  They  invented  tools  and  fabrics, 
and  we  reap  the  useful  results.  They  discovered  art 
and  science,  and  we  succeed  to  the  useful  efiects  of 
their  labors. 

All  nature  teaches  that  no  good  thing  which  has 
once  been  done  passes  utterly  away.  The  living  are 
ever  reminded  of  the  buried  millions  who  have  worked 
and  won  before  them.  The  handicraft  and  skill  dis- 
played in  the  buildings  and  sculptures  of  the  long-lost 
cities  of  Nineveh,  Babylon,  and  Troy,  have  descended 
to  the  present  time.  In  nature's  economy  no  human 
labor  is  altogether  lost.  Some  remnant  of  useful  eff*ect 
continues  to  reward  the  race,  if  not  the  individual. 

The  mere  material  wealth  bequeathed  to  us  by  our 


16  Our  Birthright.  [CHAP.  I. 

forefathers  forms  but  an  insignificant  item  in  the  sum 
of  our  inheritance.  Our  birthright  is  made  up  of  some- 
thing far  more  imperishable.  It  consists  of  the  sum  of 
the  useful  eflTects  of  human  skill  and  labor.  These  ef- 
fects were  not  transmitted  by  learning,  but  by  teach- 
ing and  example.  One  generation  taught  another,  and 
thus  art  and  handicraft,  the  knowledge  of  mechanic- 
al appliances  and  materials,  continues  to  be  preserved. 
The  labors  and  efforts  of  former  generations  were  thus 
transmitted  by  father  to  son;  and  they  continue  to 
form  the  natural  heritage  of  the  human  race — ^.one  of 
the  most  important  instruments  of  civilization. 

Our  birthright,  therefore,  consists  in  the  useful  effects 
of  the  labors  of  our  forefathers;  but  we  can  not  enjoy 
them  unless  we  ourselves  take  part  in  the  work.  All 
must  labor,  either  with  hand  or  head.  Without  work, 
life  is  worthless;  it  becomes  a  mere  state  of  moral 
coma.  We  do  not  mean  merely  physical  work.  There 
is  a  great  deal  of  higher  work — the  work  of  action  and 
endurance,  of  trial  and  patience,  of  enterprise  and  phi- 
lanthropy, of  spreading  truth  and  civilization,  of  di- 
minishing suffering  and  relieving  the  poor,  of  helping 
the  weak,  and  enabling  them  to  help  themselves. 

"A  noble  heart,"  says  Barrow,  "will  disdain  to  sub- 
sist, like  a  drone,  upon  others'  labors ;  like  a  vermin, 
to  filch  its  food  out  of  the  public  granary ;  or,  like  a 
shark,  to  prey  upon  the  lesser  fry ;  but  it  will  rather 
outdo  his  private  obligations  to  other  men's  care  and 
toil,  by  considerable  service  .and  beneficence  to  the 
public ;  for  there  is  no  calling  of  any  sort,  from  the 
sceptre  to  the  spade,  the  management  whereof,  with 
any  good  success,  any  credit,  any  satisfaction,  doth  not 
demand  much  work  of  the  head,  or  of  the  hands,  or  of 
both." 

Labor  is  not  only  a  necessity,  but  it  is  also  a  pleas- 
ure.    What  would  otherwise  be  a  curse,  by  the  consti- 


CHAP.  I.]  Results  of  Labor.  17 

tution  of  our  physical  system  becomes  a  blessing.  Our 
life  is  a  conflict  with  nature  in  some  respects,  but  it  is 
also  a  co-operation  with  nature  in  others.  The  sun, 
the  air,  and  the  earth  are  constantly  abstracting  from 
US  our  vital  forces.  Hence  w^>e  eat  and  drink  for  nour- 
ishment, and  clothe  ourselves  for  warmth. 

Nature  works  with  us.  She  provides  the  earth 
which  we  furrow ;  slid,  grows  and  ripens  the  seeds  that 
we  sow  and  gather.  She  furnishes,  with  the  help  of 
human  labor,  the  wool  that  we  spin  and  the  food  that 
we  eat.  And  it  ought  never  to  be  forgotten  that, 
however  rich  or  poor  we  may  be,  all  that  we  eat,  all 
that  we  are  clothed  with,  all  that  shelters  us,  from  the 
palace  to  the  cottage,  is  the  result  of  labor. 

Men  co-operate  with  each  other  for  the  mutual  sus- 
tenance of  all.  The  husbandman  tills  the  ground  and 
provides  food  ;  the  manufacturer  weaves  tissues,  which 
the  tailor  and  a  seamstress  make  into  clothes ;  the  ma- 
son and  the  brick- layer  build  the  houses  in  which  we 
enjoy  household  life.  Numbers  of  workmen  thus  con- 
tribute and  help  to  create  the  general  result. 

Labor  and  skill  applied  to  the  vulgarest  things  in- 
vest them  at  once  with  precious  value.  Labor  is  in- 
deed the  life  of  humanity  ;  take  it  away,  banish  it,  and 
the  race  of  Adam  were  at  once  stricken  with  death. 
"He  that  will  not  work,"  said  St.  Paul, "  neither  shall 
he  eat;"  and  the  apostle  glorified  himself  in  that  he 
had  labored  with  his  own  hands,  and  had  not  been 
chargeable  to  any  man. 

There  is  a  well-known  story  of  an  old  farmer  calling 
his  three  idle  sons  around  him  when  on  his  death-bed, 
to  impart  to  them  an  important  secret.  "My  sons," 
said  he,  "  a  great  treasure  lies  hid  in  the  estate  which 
I  am  about  to  leave  to  you."  The  old  man  gasped. 
"  Where  is  it  hid  ?"  exclaimed  the  sons  in  a  breath. 
"I  am  about  to  tell  you,"  said  the  old  man ;  "you  will 


18  Necessity  f 07'  Labor.  [chap.  i. 

have  to  dig  for  it — "  But  bis  breath  failed  him  be- 
fore he  could  impart  the  weighty  secret,  and  he  died. 
Forthwith  the  sons  set  to  work  with  spade  and  mat- 
tock upon  the  long-neglected  fields,  and  they  turned 
up  every  sod  and  clod  upon  the  estate.  They  dis- 
covered no  treasure,  but  they  learned  to  work;  and 
when  the  fields  were  sown,  and  the  harvest  came, 
lo !  the  yield  was  prodigious,  in  consequence  of  the 
thorough  tillage  which  they  had  undergone.  Then  it 
was  that  they  discovered  the  treasure  concealed  in 
the  estate,  of  which  their  wise  old  father  had  advised 
them. 

Labor  is  at  once  a  burden,  a  chastisement,  an  honor, 
and  a  pleasure.  It  may  be  identified  with  poverty, 
but  there  is  also  glory  in  it.  It  bears  witness,  at  the 
same  time,  to  our  natural  wants  and  to  our  manifold 
needs.  What  were  man,  what  were  life,  what  were 
civilization,  without  labor?  All  that  is  great  in  man 
comes  of  labor — greatness  in  art,  in  literature,  in  sci- 
ence. Knowledge  — "  the  wing  wherewith  we  fly  to 
heaven" — is  only  acquired  through  labor.  Genius  is 
but  a  capability  of  laboring  intensely :  it  is  the  power 
of  making  great  and  sustained  eflbrts.  Labor  may  be 
a  chastisement,  but  it  is  indeed  a  glorious  one.  It  is 
worship,  duty,  praise,  and  immortality — for  those  who 
labor  with  the  highest  aims  and  for  the  purest  pur- 
poses. 

There  are  many  who  murmur  and  complain  at  the 
law  of  labor  under  which  we  live,  without  reflecting 
that  obedience  to  it  is  not  only  in  conformity  with  the 
Divine  will,  but  also  necessary  for  the  development  of 
intelligence,  and  for  the  thorough  enjoyment  of  our 
common  nature.  Of  all  wretched  men,  surely  the  idle 
are  the  most  so — those  whose  life  is  barren  of  utility, 
who  have  nothing  to  do  except  to  gratify  their  senses. 
Are  not  such  men  the  most  querulous,  miserable,  and 


CHAP.  I.]  Industry  and  Intellect  19 

dissatisfied  of  all,  constantly  in  a  state  of  ennui^  alike 
useless  to  themselves  and  to  others — mere  cumberers 
of  the  earth,  who,  when  removed,  are  missed  by  none, 
and  whom  none  regret?  Most  wretched  and  ignoble 
lot,  indeed,  is  the  lot  of  the  idlers. 

Who  have  helped  the  world  onward  so  much  as  the 
workers ;  men  who  have  had  to  work  from  necessity  or 
from  choice  ?  All  that  we  call  progress — civilization, 
well-being,  and  prosperity  —  depends  upon  industry, 
diligently  applied — from  the  culture  of  a  barley-stalk 
to  the  construction  of  a  steamship ;  from  the  stitching 
of  a  collar  to  the  sculpturing  of  "  the  statue  that  en- 
chants the  world." 

All  useful  and  beautiful  thoughts,  in  like  manner,  are 
the  issue  of  labor,  of  study,  of  observation,  of  research, 
of  diligent  elaboration.  The  noblest  poem  can  not  be 
elaborated,  and  send  down  its  undying  strains  into  the 
future,  without  steady  and  painstaking  labor.  No 
great  work  has  ever  been  done  "  at  a  heat."  It  is  the 
result  of  repeated  efforts,  and  often  of  many  failures. 
One  generation  begins,  and  another  continues — the 
present  co-operating  with  the  past.  Thus,  the  Parthe- 
non began  with  a  mud-hut;  the  "Last  Judgment" 
with  a  fcAv  scratches  on  the  sand.  It  is  the  same  with 
individuals  of  the  race :  they  begin  Avith  abortive  ef- 
forts, which,  by  means  of  perseverance,  lead  to  success- 
ful issues. 

The  history  of  industry  is  uniform  in  the  character 
of  its  illustrations.  Industry  enables  the  poorest  man 
to  achieve  honor,  if  not  distinction.  The  greatest  names 
in  the  history  of  art,  literature,  and  science  are  those 
of  laboring  men.  A  working  instrument-maker  gave 
us  the  steam-engine ;  a  barber,  the  spinning-machine ; 
a  weaver,  the  mule ;  a  pitman  perfected  the  locomo- 
tive; and  working-men  of  all  grades  have,  one  after 
another,  added  to  tlie  triumphs  of  meclianical  skill. 


20  Thrift  and  Civilization.  [CHAP.  I. 

By  the  working-man  we  do  not  mean  merely  the 
man  who  labors  with  his  muscles  and  sinews.  A  horse 
can  do  this.  But  he  is  pre-eminently  the  working-man 
Avho  works  with  his  brain  also,  and  whose  whole  phys- 
ical system  is  under  the  influence  of  his  higher  facul- 
ties. The  man  who  paints  a  picture,  who  writes  a 
book,  who  makes  a  law,  who  creates  a  poem,  is  a  work- 
ing-man of  the  highest  order ;  not  so  necessary  to  the 
physical  sustainment  of  the  community  as  the  jdIow- 
man  or  the  shepherd,  but  not  less  important  as  provid- 
ing for  society  its  highest  intellectual  nourishment. 

Having  said  so  much  of  the  importance  and  the  ne- 
cessity of  industry,  let  us  see  what  uses  are  made  of 
the  advantacces  derivable  from  it.  It  is  clear  that  man 
would  have  continued  a  savage  but  for  the  accumula- 
tions of  savings  made  by  our  forefathers — the  savings 
of  skill,  of  art,  of  invention,  and  of  intellectual  culture. 

It  is  the  savings  of  the  world  that  have  made  the 
civilization  of  the  world.  Savings  are  the  result  of  la- 
bor; and  it  is  only  when  laborers  begin  to  save  that 
the  results  of  civilization  accumulate.  We  have  said 
that  thrift  began  with  civilization :  we  might  almost 
have  said  that  thrift  produced  civilization.  Thrift  pro- 
duces capital,  and  capital  is  the  conserved  result  of  la- 
bor. The  capitalist  is  merely  a  man  who  does  not  spend 
all  that  is  earned  by  work. 

But  thrift  is  not  a  natural  instinct.  It  is  an  acquired 
principle  of  conduct.  It  involves  self-denial — the  de- 
nial of  present  enjoyment  for  future  good — the  subor- 
dination of  animal  appetite  to  reason,  forethought,  and 
prudence.  It  works  for  to-day,  but  also  provides  for 
to-morrow.  It  invests  the  capital  it  has  saved,  and 
makes  provision  for  the  future. 

"  Man's  right  of  seeing  the  future,"  says  Mr.  Edward 
Denison, "  which  is  conferred  on  him  by  reason,  has  at- 
tached to  it  the  duty  of  providing  for  that  future ;  and 


CHAP.  I.]  Thrifty  Industnj.  21 

our  language  bears  witness  to  this  truth  by  using,  as 
expressive  of  active  precaution  against  future  want,  a 
-word  which  in  its  radical  meaning  implies  only  a  pas- 
sive foreknowledge  of  the  same.  Whenever  we  speak 
of  the  virtue  of  providence^  we  assume  that  forewarned 
is  fore-armed.  To  know  the  future  is  no  virtue,  but  it 
is  the  greatest  of  virtues  to  prepare  for  it."* 

But  a  large  proportion  of  men  do  not  provide  for  the 
future.  They  do  not  remember  the  past.  They  think 
only  of  the  present.  They  preserve  nothing.  They 
spend  all  that  they  earn.  They  do  not  provide  for 
themselves;  they  do  not  provide  for  their  families. 
They  may  make  high  wages,  but  eat  and  drink  the 
whole  of  what  they  earn.  Such  people  are  constantly 
poor,  and  hanging  on  the  verge  of  destitution. 

It  is  the  same  with  nations.  The  nations  which 
consume  all  that  they  produce,  without  leaving  a  store 
for  future  production,  have  no  capital.  Like  thriftless 
individuals,  they  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  and  are  al- 
ways poor  and  miserable.  Xations  that  have  no  capi- 
tal have  no  commerce.  They  have  no  accumulations 
to  dispose  of;  hence  they  have  no  ships,  no  sailors,  no 
docks,  no  harbors,  no  canals,  and  no  railways.  Thrifty 
industry  lies  at  the  root  of  the  civilization  of  the  world. 

Look  at  Spain.  There,  the  richest  soil  is  the  least 
productive.  Along  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir, 
where  once  twelve  thousand  villages  existed,  there 
are  now  not  eight  hundred ;  and  they  are  full  of  beg- 
gars. A  Spanish  proverb  says,  "^^  cielo  y  suelo  es 
huenOy  el  entresuelo  malo  " — "  The  sky  is  good,  the  earth 
is  good ;  that  only  is  bad  which  lies  between  the  sky 
and  the  earth."  Continuous  effort,  or  patient  labor,  is 
for  the  Spaniard  an  insupportable  thing.  Half  through 
indolence,  half  through  pride,  he  can  not  bend  to  work. 


Letters  of  the  late  Edward  Denison,"  p.  240. 


22  Thrifty  Economy.  [CHAP.  i. 

A  Spaniard  will  blusli  to  work;  he  will  not  blush  to 
beg  !"*" 

It  is  in  this  way  that  society  mainly  consists  of  two 
classes  —  the  savers  and  the  wasters,  the  provident 
and  the  improvident,  the  thrifty  and  the  thriftless,  the 
Haves  and  the  Have-nots. 

The  men  who  economize  by  means  of  labor  become 
the  owners  of  capital  which  sets  other  labor  in  motion. 
Capital  accumulates  in  their  hands,  and  they  employ 
other  laborers  to  work  for  them.  Thus  trade  and 
commerce  begin. 

The  thrifty  build  houses,  warehouses,  and  mills. 
They  fit  manufactories  with  tools  and  machines.  They 
build  ships,  and  send  them  to  various  parts  of  the 
world..  They  put  their  capital  together,  and  build 
railroads,  harbors,  and  docks.  They  open  up  mines  of 
coal,  iron,  and  copper ;  and  erect  pumping-engines  to 
keep  them  clear  of  water.  They  employ  laborers  to 
work  the  mines,  and  thus  give  rise  to  an  immense 
amount  of  employment. 

All  this  is  the  result  of  thrift.  It  is  the  result  of 
economizing  monej'-,  and  employing  it  for  beneficial 
purposes.  The  thriftless  man  has  no  share  in  the  prog- 
ress of  the  world.  He  spends  all  that  he  gets,  and  can 
give  no  help  to  any  body.  No  matter  how  much 
money  he  makes,  his  position  is  not  in  any  respect 
raised.  He  husbands  none  of  his  resources.  He  is  al- 
ways calling  for  help.  He  is,  in  fact,  the  born  thrall 
and  slave  of  the  thrifty. 

*  Eugene  Poitou,  **  Spain  and  its  People,"  pp.  184-188. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HABITS    OF    THRIFT. 

*'Die  Ilauptsache  ist  dass  man  lerne  sicli  selbst  zu  beherrschen, " 
[Tlie  great  matter  is  to  learn  to  rule  one's  self.] — Goethe. 

"Most  men  work  for  the  present,  a  few  for  the  future.  The  wise 
work  for  both — for  the  future  in  the  present,  and  for  the  present  in  the 
future." — Guesses  at  Truth. 

"  The  secret  of  all  success  is  to  know  how  to  deny  yourself If 

you  once  learn  to  get  the  whip-hand  of  yourself,  that  is  the  best  edu- 
cator. Prove  to  me  that  you  can  control  yourself,  and  I'll  say  you're 
an  educated  man ;  and  without  this,  all  other  education  is  good  for 
next  to  nothing." — Mrs.  Olipiiant. 

*'A11  the  world  cries,  'Where  is  the  man  who  will  save  us?  We 
want  a  man !'  Don't  look  so  far  for  this  man  :  you  have  him  at  hand. 
This  man — it  is  you,  it  is  I,  it  is  each  one  of  us ! How  to  consti- 
tute one's  self  a  man  ?  Nothing  harder,  if  one  knows  not  how  to  will 
it;  nothing  easier,  if  one  wills  it." — Alexandre  DmiAS. 

COMPETENCE  and  comfort  lie  within  the  reach 
of  most  people,  were  they  to  take  the  adequate 
means  to  secure  and  enjoy  them.  Men  who  are  paid 
good  wages  might  also  become  capitalists,  and  take 
their  fair  share  in  the  improvement  and  well-being  of 
the  world.  But  it  is  only  by  the  exercise  of  labor,  en- 
ergy, honesty,  and  thrift,  that  they  can  advance  their 
own  position  or  that  of  their  class. 

Society  at  present  suffers  for  more  from  waste  of 
money  than  from  want  of  money.  It  is  easier  to  make 
money  than  to  know  how  to  spend  it.  It  is  not  what 
a  man  gets  that  constitutes  his  wealth,  but  his  manner 
of  spending  and  economizing.  And  when  a  man  ob- 
tains by  his  labor  more  than  enougli  for  his  personal 
and  family  wants,  and  can  lay  by  a  little  store  of  sav- 


24  Workmen  and  Capital  [chap.  ii. 

ings  besides,  he  unquestionably  possesses  the  elements 
of  social  well-being.  The  savings  may  amount  to  lit- 
tle, but  they  may  be  sufficient  to  make  him  independ- 
ent. 

There  is  no  reason  why  the  highly  paid  workman  of 
to-day  may  not  save  a  store  of  capital.  It  is  merely  a 
matter  of  self-denial  and  private  economy.  Indeed, 
the  principal  industrial  leaders  of  to-day  consist,  for 
the  most  part,  of  men  who  have  sprung  directly  from 
the  ranks.  It  is  the  accumulation  of  experience  and 
skill  that  makes  the  difference  between  the  workman 
and  the  no-workman;  and  it  depends  upon  the  work- 
man himself  whether  he  will  save  his  capital  or  waste 
it.  If  he  save  it,  he  will  always  find  that  he  has  suffi- 
cient opportunities  for  employing  it  profitably  and 
usefully. 

"When  I  was  down  in  Lancashire  the  other  day," 
said  Mr.  Cobden  to  his  fellow-townsmen  at  Midhurst, 
"  I  visited  a  mill,  in  company  with  some  other  gentle- 
men, and  that  mill  belonged  to  a  person  whose  real 
name  I  will  not  mention,  but  whom  for  the  present 
purpose  I  will  call  Mr.  Smith.  There  could  not  have 
been  less  than  three  or  four  thousand  persons  engaged 
in  this  mill  when  it  was  at  work,  and  there  were  seven 
hundred  power -looms  under  one  roof.  As  we  were 
coming  away,  one  of  the  friends  who  accompanied  me 
patted  the  owner  of  the  mill  on  the  shoulder,  and.  with 
that  frank  and  manly  familiarity  which  rather  distin- 
guishes the  Lancashire  race,  he  said,  "  Mr.  Smith  was 
a  working-man  himself  twenty-five  years  ago,  and  he 
owes  all  this  entirely  to  his  own  industry  and  frugal- 
ity." To  which  Mr.  Smith  immediately  replied,  in  the 
same  frank  and  good-humored  manner,  "  Nay,  I  do  not 
owe  it  all  to  myself;  I  married  a  wife  with  a  fortune ; 
for  she  was  earning  nine  shillings  and  sixpence  a  week 
as  a  weaver  at  the  power-loom  when  she  married  me.' " 


CHAP,  il]  Habits  of  Economy.  25 

Thrift  of  time  is  equal  to  thrift  of  money.  Frank- 
lin said,  ""Time  is  gold."  If  one  wishes  to  earn  money, 
it  may  be  done  by  the  proper  use  of  time.  But  time 
may  also  be  spent  in  doing  many  good  and  noble  ac- 
tions. It  may  be  spent  in  learning,  in  study,  in  art, 
in  science,  in  literature.  Time  can  be  economized  by 
system.  System  is  an  arrangement  to  secure  certain 
ends,  so  that  no  time  may  be  lost  in  accomplishing 
them.  Every  business  man  must  be  systematic  and 
orderly;  so  must  every  housewife.  There  must  be  a 
place  for  every  thing,  and  every  thing  in  its  place. 
There  must  also  be  a  time  for  every  thing,  and  every 
thing  must  be  done  in  time. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  show  that  economy  is  useful. 
Nobody  denies  that  thrift  may  be  practiced.  We  see 
numerous  examples  of  it.  What  many  men  liave  al- 
ready done,  all  other  men  inay  do.  Nor  is  thrift  a 
painful  virtue.  On  the  contrary,  it  enables  us  to  avoid 
much  contempt  and  many  indignities.  It  requires  us 
to  deny  ourselves,  but  not  to  abstain  from  any  prop- 
er enjoyment.  It  provides  many  honest  pleasures,  of 
which  thriftlessness  and  extravagance  deprive  us. 

Let  no  man  say  that  he  can  not  economize.  Tliere 
are  few  persons  who  could  not  contrive  to  save  a  few 
shillings  weekly.  In  twenty  years,  three  sliillings 
saved  weekly  would  amount  to  two  hundred  and  forty 
pounds ;  and  in  ten  years  more,  by  addition  of  interest, 
to  four  hundred  and  twenty  pounds.  Some  may  say 
that  they  can  not  save  nearly  so  much.  Well !  begin 
with  two  shillings,  one  shilling,  or  even  sixpence.  Be- 
gin somewhere;  but,  at  all  events,  make  a  beginning. 
Sixpence  a  week,  deposited  in  the  savings-bank,  will 
amount  to  forty  pounds  in  twenty  years,  and  seventy 
pounds  in  thirty  years.  It  is  the  habit  of  economizing 
and  denying  one's  self  that  needs  to  be  formed. 

Thrift  does  not  require  superior  courage,  nor  superior 


26  Self-indulgence.  [chap.  ii. 

intellect,  nor  any  superhuman  virtue.  It  merely  re- 
quires common  sense,  and  the  power  of  resisthig  selfish 
enjoyments.  In  fact,  thrift  is  merely  common  sense  in 
every-day  working  action.  It  needs  no  fervent  reso- 
lution, but  only  a  little  patient  self-denial.  Begin  is 
its  device !  The  more  the  habit  of  thrift  is  practiced, 
the  easier  it  becomes,  and  the  sooner  it  compensates 
the  self-denier  for  the  sacrifices  which  it  has  imposed. 

The  question  may  be  asked :  Is  it  possible  for  a  man 
"working  for  small  wages  to  save  any  thing,  and  lay  it 
by  in  a  savings-bank,  when  he  requires  every  penny 
for  the  maintenance  of  his  family  ?  But  the  fact  re- 
mains, that  it  is  done  by  many  industrious  and  sober 
men ;  that  they  do  deny  themselves,  and  put  their 
spare  earnings  into  savings-banks,  and  the  other  re- 
ceptacles provided  for  poor  men's  savings.  And  if 
some  can  do  this,  all  may  do  it  under  similar  circum- 
stances, without  depriving  themselves  of  any  genuine 
pleasure  or  any  real  enjoyment. 

Plow  intensely  selfish  is  it  for  any  one  in  the  receipt 
of  good  pay  to  spend  every  thing  upon  himself;  or, 
if  he  has  a  family,  to  spend  his  whole  earnings  from 
week  to  week,  and  lay  nothing  by.  When  we  hear 
that  a  man  who  has  been  in  the  receipt  of  a  good 
salary  has  died  and  left  nothing  behind  him — that  he 
has  left  his  wife  and  family  destitute  —  left  them  to 
chance — to  live  or  perish  anywhere — w^e  can  not  but 
regard  it  as  the  most  selfish  thriftlessness.  And  yet 
comparatively  little  is  thought  of  such  cases.  Perhaps 
the  hat  goes  round.  Subscriptions  may  produce  some- 
thing— perhaps  nothing;  and  the  ruined  remnants  of 
the  unhappy  family  sink  into  poverty  and  destitution. 

Yet  the  merest  prudence  would,  to  a  great  extent, 
have  obviated  this  result.  The  curtailment  of  any 
sensual  and  selfish  enjoyment — of  a  glass  of  beer  or  a 
screw  of  tobacco — would  enable  a  man,  in  the  course 


CHAP.  II.]  Results  of  Thriftlessness.  27 

of  years,  to  save  at  least  something  for  others,  instead 
of  wasting  it  on  himself.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  absolute 
duty  of  the  poorest  man  to  provide,  in  however  slight 
a  degree,  for  the  support  of  himself  and  his  family  in 
the  season  of  sickness  and  helplessness,  which  often 
comes  upon  men  Avhen  they  least  expect  such  a  visita- 
tion. 

Comparatively  few  people  can  be  rich ;  but  most 
have  it  in  their  power  to  acquire,  by  industry  and 
economy,  sufficient  to  meet  their  personal  wants. 
They  may  even  become  the  possessors  of  savings  suffi- 
cient to  secure  them  against  penury  and  poverty  in 
their  old  age.  It  is  not,  however,  the  want  of  oppor- 
tunity, but  the  want  of  will,  that  stands  in  the  way  of 
economy.  Men  may  labor  unceasingly  with  hand  or 
head ;  but  they  can  not  abstain  from  spending  too  free- 
ly, and  living  too  highly. 

The  majority  prefer  the  enjoyment  of  pleasure  to 
the  practice  of  self-denial.  With  the  mass  of  men  the 
animal  is  paramount.  They  often  spend  all  that  they 
earn.  But  it  is  not  merely  the  working  people  who 
are  spendthrifts.  \Ye  hear  of  men  who  for  years  have 
been  earning  and  spending  hundreds  a  year,  who  sud- 
denly die,  leaving  their  children  penniless.  Every 
body  knows  of  such  cases.  At  their  death  the  very 
furniture  of  the  house  they  have  lived  in  belongs  to 
others.  It  is  sold  to  pay  their  funeral  expenses,  and 
the  debts  which  they  have  incurred  during  their  thrift- 
less life-time. 

Money  represents  a  multitude  of  objects  without 
value,  or  without  real  utility;  but  it  also  represents 
something  much  more  precious,  and  that  is  independ- 
ence.    In  this  light  it  is  of  great  moral  importance. 

As  a  guarantee  of  independence,  the  modest  and 
plebeian  quality  of  economy  is  at  once  ennobled  and 
raised  to  the  rank  of  one  of  the  most  meritorious  of 


28  Uses  of  Saved  Money.  [CHAP.  ii. 

virtues.  "  Never  treat  money  affairs  with  levity,"  said 
Bulwer;  "money  is  character."  Some  of  man's  best 
qualities  depend  upon  the  right  use  of  money — such  as 
his  generosity,  benevolence,  justice,  honesty,  and  fore- 
thought. Many  of  his  worst  qualities  also  originate  in 
the  bad  use  of  money — such  as  greed,  miserliness,  in- 
justice, extravagance,  and  improvidence. 

N"o  class  ever  accomplished  any  thing  that  lived 
from  hand  to  mouth.  People  who  spend  all  that  they 
earn  are  ever  hanging  on  the  brink  of  destitution. 
They  must  necessarily  be  weak  and  impotent — the 
slaves  of  time  and  circumstance.  They  keep  them- 
selves poor.  They  lose  self-respect,  as  well  as  the  re- 
spect of  others.  It  is  impossible  that  they  can  be  free 
and  independent.  To  be  thriftless  is  enough  to  de- 
prive one  of  all  manly  spirit  and  virtue. 

But  a  man  with  something  saved,  no  matter  how  lit- 
tle, is  in  a  different  position.  The  little  capital  he  has 
stored  up  is  always  a  source  of  power.  He  is  no  long- 
er the  sport  of  time  and  fate.  He  can  boldly  look  the 
world  in  the  face.  He  is,  in  a  manner,  his  own  master. 
He  can  dictate  his  own  terms.  He  can  neither  be 
bought  nor  sold.  He  can  look  forward  with  cheerful- 
ness to  an  old  age  of  comfort  and  happiness. 

As  men  become  wise  and  thoughtful,  they  generally 
become  provident  and  frugal.  A  thoughtless  man,  like 
a  savage,  spends  as  he  gets,  thinking  nothing  of  to- 
morrow, of  the  time  of  adversity,  or  of  the  claims  of 
those  whom  he  has  made  dependent  on  him.  But  a 
wise  man  thinks  of  the  future ;  he  prepares  in  good 
time  for  the  evil  day  that  may  come  upon  him  and  his 
family ;  and  he  provides  carefully  for  those  who  are 
near  and  dear  to  him. 

What  a  serious  responsibility  does  the  man  incur 
who  marries !  Not  many  seriously  think  of  this  re- 
sponsibility.     Perhaps  this  is   wisely   ordered.     For 


CHAP.  II.]  Extravagant  Living.  29 

much  serious  thinking  might  end  in  the  avoidance  of 
married  life  and  its  responsibilities.  But,  once  mar- 
ried, a  man  ought  forthwith  to  determine  that,  so  far 
as  his  own  efforts  are  concerned,  want  shall  never  en- 
ter his  household ;  and  that  his  children  shall  not,  in  the 
event  of  his  being  removed  from  the  scene  of  life  and 
labor,  be  left  a  burden  upon  society. 

Economy  with  this  object  is  an  important  duty. 
Without  economy,  no  man  can  be  just — no  man  can  be 
honest.  Improvidence  is  cruelty  to  women  and  chil- 
dren, though  the  cruelty  is  born  of  ignorance.  A  father 
spends  his  surplus  means  in  drink,  providing  little  and 
saving  nothing ;  and  then  he  dies,  leaving  his  destitute 
family  his  life-long  victims.  Can  any  form  of  cruelty 
surpass  this?  Yet  this  reckless  course  is  pursued  to 
a  large  extent  among  every  class.  The  middle  and 
upper  classes  are  equally  guilty  with  the  lower  class. 
They  live  beyond  their  means.  They  live  extrava- 
gantly. They  are  ambitious  of  glare  and  glitter,  fri- 
volity and  pleasure.  They  struggle  to  be  rich,  that 
they  may  have  the  means  of  spending — of  drinking  rich 
wines  and  giving  good  dinners. 

When  Mr.  Hume  said  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
some  years  ago,  that  the  tone  of  living  in  England  was 
altogether  too  high,  his  observation  was  followed  witli 
"  loud  laughter."  Yet  his  remark  was  perfectly  true. 
It  is  far  more  true  now  than  it  was  then.  Thinking 
people  believe  that  life  is  now  too  fiist,  and  that  we  are 
living  at  higli-pressure.  In  short,  we  live  extravagant- 
ly. We  live  beyond  our  means.  We  throw  away  our 
earnings,  and  often  throw  our  lives  after  tliem. 

Many  persons  are  diligent  enough  in  making  money, 
but  do  not  know  how  to  economize  it,  or  how  to  spend 
it.  They  have  sufficient  skill  and  industry  to  do  the 
one,  but  they  want  the  necessary  wisdom  to  do  the 
other.    The  temporary  passion  for  enjoyment  seizes  us, 


30  Bargain-buying.  [chap.  ii. 

and  we  give  way  to  it  without  regard  to  consequences. 
And  yet  it  may  be  merely  the  result  of  forgetfulness, 
and  may  be  easily  controlled  by  firmness  of  will,  and 
by  energetic  resolution  to  avoid  the  occasional  causes 
of  expenditure  for  the  future. 

The  habit  of  saving  arises,  for  the  most  part,  in  the 
desire  to  ameliorate  our  social  condition,  as  well  as  to 
ameliorate  the  condition  of  those  who  are  dependent 
upon  us.  It  dispenses  with  every  thing  which  is  not 
essential,  and  avoids  all  methods  of  living  that  are 
wasteful  and  extravagant.  A  purchase  made  at  the 
lowest  price  will  be  dear,  if  it  be  a  superfluity.  Little 
expenses  lead  to  great.  Buying  things  that  are  not 
wanted  soon  accustoms  us  to  prodigality  in  other  re- 
spects. 

Cicero  said,  "Not  to  have  a  mania  for  buying,  is  to 
possess  a  revenue."  Many  are  carried  away  by  the 
habit  of  bargain-buying.  "  Here  is  something  wonder- 
fully cheap :  let  us  buy  it."  "  Have  you  any  use  for 
it  ?"  "  No,  not  at  present ;  but  it  is  sure  to  come  in 
useful,  some  time."  Fashion  runs  in  this  habit  of  buy- 
ing. Some  buy  old  china — as  much  as  Avill  furnish  a 
china-shop.  Others  buy  old  pictures — old  furniture — 
old  wines — all  great  bargains !  There  would  be  little 
harm  in  buying  these  old  things,  if  they  were  not  so 
often  bought  at  the  expense  of  the  connoisseur's  cred- 
itors. Horace  Walpole  once  said,  "I  hope  that  there 
will  not  be  another  sale,  for  I  have  not  an  inch  of  room 
nor  a  farthing  left." 

Men  must  prepare  in  youth  and  in  middle  age  the 
means  for  enjoying  old  age  pleasantly  and  happily. 
There  can  be  nothing  more  distressing  than  to  see  an 
old  man  who  has  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in 
well-paid-for  labor,  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  begging 
for  bread,  and  relying  entirely  upon  the  commiseration 
of  liis  neighbors  or  upon  the  bounty  of  strangers.    Such 


CHAP.  II.]  Thrift  and  Unthrift.  31 


a  consideration  as  this  should  inspire  men  in  early  life 
with  a  determination  to  work  and  to  save,  for  the  ben- 
efit of  themselves  and  their  families  in  later  years. 

It  is,  in  fact,  in  youth  that  economy  should  be  prac- 
ticed, and  in  old  age  that  men  should  dispense  liberally, 
provided  they  do  not  exceed  their  income.  The  young 
man  has  a  long  future  before  him,  during  which  he  may 
exercise  the  principles  of  economy ;  while  the  other  is 
reaching  the  end  of  his  career,  and  can  carry  nothing 
out  of  the  w^orld  with  him. 

This,  however,  is  not  the  usual  practice.  The  young- 
man  now  spends,  or  desires  to  spend,  quite  as  liberally, 
and  often  much  more  liberally,  than  his  father,  who  is 
about  to  end  his  career.  He  begins  life  where  his  fa- 
ther left  off.  He  spends  more  than  his  father  did  at 
his  age,  and  soon  finds  himself  up  to  his  ears  in  debt. 
To  satisfy  his  incessant  wants,  he  resorts  to  unscrupu- 
lous means  and  to  illicit  gains.  He  tries  to  make  mon- 
ey rapidly;  he  speculates,  overtrades,  and  is  speedily 
wound  up.  Thus  he  obtains  experience ;  but  it  is  the 
result,  not  of  well-doing,  but  of  ill-doing. 

Socrates  recommends  fathers  of  families  to  observe 
the  practice  of  their  thrifty  neighbors — of  those  who 
spend  their  means  to  the  best  advantage — and  to  prof- 
it by  their  example.  Thrift  is  essentially  practical, 
and  can  best  be  taught  by  facts.  Two  men  earn,  say, 
five  shillings  a  day.  They  are  in  precisely  the  same 
condition  as  respects  family  living  and  expenditure. 
Yet  the  one  says  he  can  not  save,  and  does  not;  while 
the  other  says  he  can  save,  and  regularly  deposits  part 
of  his  savings  in  a  savings-bank,  and  eventually  bo- 
comes  a  capitalist. 

Samuel  Johnson  fully  knew  the  straits  of  poverty. 
He  once  signed  his  name  Imjyransus,  or  JDinnerless. 
He  had  walked  the  streets  with  Savage,  not  knowing 
where  to  lay  his  head  at  nisjht.     Johnson  never  forcjot 


32  Johnson  on  Economy.  [chap.  ii. 

the  poverty  through  which  he  passed  in  his  early  life, 
and  he  was  always  counseling  his  friends  and  readers 
to  avoid  it.  Like  Cicero,  he  averred  that  the  best 
source  of  wealth  or  well-being  was  economy.  He  call- 
ed it  the  daughter  of  Prudence,  the  sister  of  Temper- 
ance, and  the  mother  of  Liberty. 

"  Poverty,"  he  said,  "  takes  away  so  many  means  of 
doing  good,  and  produces  so  much  inability  to  resist 
evil,  both  natural  and  moral,  that  it  is  by  all  virtuous 
means  to  be  avoided.  Resolve,  then,  not  to  be  poor ; 
Avhatever  you  have,  spend  less.  Frugality  is  not  only 
the  basis  of  quiet,  but  of  beneficence.  No  man  can 
help  others  who  wants  help  liiraself:  we  must  have 
enough  before  we  have  to  spare." 

And  again  he  said,  "  Poverty  is  a  great  enemy  to 
human  happiness.  It  certainly  destroys  liberty,  and 
it  makes  some  virtues  impracticable,  and  others  ex- 
tremely difficult All  to  whom  want  is  terrible, 

upon  whatever  principle,  ought  to  think  themselves 
obliged  to  learn  tlie  sage  maxims  of  our  parsimonious 
ancestors,  and  attain  the  salutary  arts  of  contracting 
expense ;  for  without  economy  none  can  be  rich,  and 
with  it  few  can  be  poor." 

When  economy  is  looked  upon  as  a  thing  that  must 
be  practiced,  it  will  never  be  felt  as  a  burden;  and 
those  who  have  not  before  observed  it,  will  be  aston- 
ished to  find  what  a  few  pence  or  shillings  laid  aside 
weekly  will  do  toward  securing  moral  elevation,  men- 
tal culture,  and  personal  independence. 

There  is  a  dignity  in  every  attempt  to  economize. 
Its  very  practice  is  improving.  It  indicates  self-denial, 
and  imparts  strength  to  the  character.  It  produces 
a  well-regulated  mind.  It  fosters  temperance.  It  is 
based  on  forethought.  It  makes  prudence  the  domi- 
nating characteristic.  It  gives  virtue  the  mastery 
over  self-indulgence.     Above  all,  it  secures  comfort, 


CHAP.  II.]  Self-respect.  83 

drives  away  care,  and  dispels  many  vexations  and  anx- 
ieties which  might  otherwise  prey  upon  us. 

Some  will  say,  "  It  can't  be  done."  But  every  body 
can  do  something.  "  It  can't"  is  the  ruin  of  men  and 
of  nations.  In  fact,  there  is  no  greater  cant  than  ca7iH. 
Take  an  instance :  A  glass  of  beer  a  day  is  equal  to 
forty-five  shillings  a  year.  This  sum  will  insure  a 
man's  life  for  a  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  payable  at 
death.  Or,  placed  in  a  savings-bank,  it  would  amount 
to  a  hundred  pounds  in  twenty  years.  But  many  drink 
half  a  dozen  glasses  of  beer  a  day.  This  amount  of 
beer,  not  drunk,  would  amount,  during  that  time,  to 
six  hundred  pounds.  The  man  who  spends  ninepence 
a  day  in  liquor  squanders  in  fifty  years  nearly  two 
thousand  pounds. 

A  master  recommended  one  of  his  workmen  to  "  lay 
by  something  for  a  rainy  day."  Shortly  after,  the 
master  asked  the  man  liow  much  lie  had  added  to  his 
store.  "Faith,  nothing  at  all,"  said  he;  "I  did  as  you 
bid  me ;  but  it  rained  very  hard  yesterday,  and  it  all 
went — in  drink  !" 

That  a  man  should  maintain  himself  and  his  family 
Vvithout  the  help  of  others  is  due  to  his  sense  of  self- 
respect.  Every  genuine,  self-helping  man  ought  to  re- 
spect himself.  He  is  the  centre  of  his  own  little  world. 
His  personal  loves,  likings,  experiences,  hopes,  and  fears 
— how  important  they  are  to  him,  although  of  little 
consequence  to  others  !  They  affect  his  happiness,  his 
daily  life,  and  liis  whole  being  as  a  man.  He  can  not, 
therefore,  but  feel  interested,  deeply  interested,  in  all 
that  concerns  himself. 

To  do  justice,  a  man  must  think  well  not  only  of 
himself,  but  of  the  duties  which  he  owes  to  otliers. 
He  must  not  aim  too  low,  but  regard  man  as  created 
"  a  little  lower  than  the  angels."  Let  him  tliink  of  his 
high  destiny — of  the  eternal  interests  in  which  he  has 

9* 


84  Self-help.  [chap.  ii. 

a  part — of  the  great  scheme  of  nature  and  providence 
— of  the  intellect  with  which  he  has  been  endowed — 
of  tlie  power  of  loving  conferred  upon  him — of  the 
home  on  earth  provided  for  him ;  and  he  will  cease  to 
think  meanly  of  himself.  The  poorest  human  being  is 
the  centre  of  two  eternities,  the  Creator  overshadow- 
ing all. 

Hence,  let  every  man  respect  himself — his  body,  his 
mind,  his  character.  Self-respect,  originating  in  self- 
love,  instigates  the  first  step  of  improvement.  It  stim- 
ulates a  man  to  rise,  to  look  upward,  to  develop  his 
intelligence,  to  improve  his  condition.  Self-respect  is 
the  root  of  most  of  the  virtues — of  cleanliness,  chastity, 
reverence,  honesty,  sobriety.  To  think  meanly  of  one's 
self  is  to  sink — sometimes  to  descend  a  precipice  at  the 
bottom  of  which  is  infamy. 

Every  man  can  help  himself  to  some  extent.  We 
are  not  mere  straws  thrown  upon  the  current  to  mark 
its  course ;  but  possessed  of  freedom  of  action,  endowed 
with  power  to  stem  the  waves  and  rise  above  them, 
each  marking  out  a  course  for  himself.  We  can  each 
elevate  ourselves  in  the  scale  of  moral  being.  We  can 
cherish  pure  thoughts.  We  can  perform  good  actions. 
We  can  live  soberly  and  frugally.  We  can  provide 
against  the  evil  day.  We  can  read  good  books,  listen 
to  wise  teachers,  and  place  ourselves  under  the  divinest 
influences  on  earth.  We  can  live  for  the  highest  pur- 
poses, and  with  the  highest  aims  in  view. 

"  Self-love  and  social  are  the  same,"  says  one  of  our 
poets.  The  man  who  improves  himself,  improves  the 
world.  He  adds  one  more  true  man  to  the  mass. 
And  the  mass  being  made  up  of  individuals,  it  is  clear 
that  were  each  to  improve  himself,  the  result  would 
be  the  improvement  of  the  whole.  Social  advance- 
ment is  the  consequence  of  individual  advancement. 
The  whole  can  not  be  pure,  unless  the  individuals  com- 


CHAP.  II.]  Uncertainty  of  Life.  35 

posing  it  are  pure.  Society  at  large  is  but  the  reflex 
of  individual  conditions.  All  this  is  but  the  repetition 
of  a  truism,  but  truisms  have  often  to  be  repeated  to 
make  their  full  impression. 

Then,  again,  a  man,  -when  he  has  improved  himself, 
is  better  able  to  improve  those  who  are  brought  into 
contact  with  him.  He  has  more  power.  His  sphere 
of  vision  is  enlarged.  He  sees  more  clearly  the  defects 
in  the  condition  of  others  that  might  be  remedied. 
He  can  lend  a  more  active  helping  hand  to  raise  them. 
He  has  done  his  duty  by  himself,  and  can  with  more 
authority  urge  upon  others  the  necessity  of  doing  the 
like  duty  to  themselves.  How  can  a  man  be  a  social 
elevator,  who  is  himself  walking  in  the  mire  of  self-in- 
dulgence? How  can  he  teach  sobriety  or  cleanliness, 
if  he  be  himself  drunken  or  foul?  *' Physician,  heal 
thyself,"  is  the  answer  of  his  neighbors. 

The  sum  and  substance  of  our  remarks  is  this:  In 
all  the  individual  reforms  or  improvements  that  we 
desire,  we  must  begin  with  ourselves.  We  must  ex- 
liibit  our  gospel  in  our  own  life.  AYe  must  teach  by 
our  own  example.  If  we  would  have  others  elevated, 
we  must  elevate  ourselves.  Each  man  can  exhibit  the 
results  in  his  own  person.  He  can  begin  with  self- 
respect. 

The  uncertainty  of  life  is  a  strong  inducement  to 
provide  against  the  evil  day.  To  do  this  is  a  moral 
and  social  as  well  as  a  religious  duty.  "But  if  any 
provide  not  for  his  own,  and  specially  for  those  of  his 
own  house,  he  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse  than 
an  infidel." 

The  uncertainty  of  life  is  proverbially  true.  The 
strongest  and  healthiest  man  may  be  stricken  down  in 
a  moment,  by  accident  or  disease.  If  we  take  human 
life  in  a  mass,  w^e  can  not  fail  to  recognize  the  uncer- 
tainty of  life  as  much  as  we  do  the  certainty  of  death. 


36  Laws  of  Mortality.  [CHAr.  ii. 

There  is  a  striking  passage  in  Addison's  "Vision  of 
Mirza,"  in  which  life  is  pictured  as  a  passage  over  a 
bridge  of  about  a  hundred  arches.  A  black  cloud 
hangs  over  each  end  of  the  bridge.  At  the  entrance 
to  it  there  are  hidden  pitfalls  very  thickly  set,  through 
■which  throngs  disappear,  so  soon  as  they  have  placed 
their  feet  upon  the  bridge.  They  grow  thinner  toward 
the  centre;  they  gradually  disappear;  until  at  length 
only  a  few  persons  reach  the  farther  side,  and  these 
also  having  dropped  through  the  pitfalls,  the  bridge 
at  its  farther  extremity  becomes  entirely  clear.  The 
description  of  Addison  corresponds  with  the  results  of 
the  observations  made  as  to  the  duration  of  human  life. 

Thus,  of  a  hundred  thousand  persons  born  in  this 
country,  it  has  been  ascertained  that  a  fourth  of  them 
die  before  they  have  reached  their  fifth  year,  and  one- 
half  before  they  have  reached  their  fiftieth  year.  One 
thousand  one  hundred  will  reach  their  ninetieth  year. 
Sixteen  will  live  to  a  hundred.  And  only  two  persons 
out  of  the  hundred  thousand — like  the  last  barks  of  an 
innumerable  convoy  —  will  reach  the  advanced  and 
helpless  age  of  a  hundred  and  five  years. 

Two  things  are  very  obvious — the  uncertainty  as  to 
the  hour  of  death  in  individuals,  but  the  regularity 
and  constancy  of  the  circumstances  which  influence  the 
duration  of  human  life  in  the  aggregate.  It  is  a  mat- 
ter of  certainty  that  the  average  life  of  all  persons  born 
in  this  country  extends  to  about  forty-five  years.  This 
has  been  proved  by  a  very  large  number  of  observa- 
tions of  human  life  and  its  duration. 

Equally  extensive  observations  have  been  made  as 
to  the  average  number  of  persons  of  various  ages  who 
die  yearly.  It  is  always  the  number  of  the  experi- 
ments which  gives  the  law  of  the  probability.  It  is 
on  such  observations  that  the  actuary  founds  his  esti- 
mates of  the  mortality  that  exists  at  any  given  period 


CHAP.  II.]  Will  nobody  help  us  ?  37 

of  life.  The  actuary  tells  you  that  he  lias  been  guided 
by  the  laws  of  mortality.  Now,  the  results  must  be 
very  regular  to  justify  the  actuary  in  speaking  of  mor- 
tality as  governed  by  laws.     And  yet  it  is  so. 

Indeed,  there  would  seem  to  be  no  such  thing  as 
chance  in  the  world.  Man  lives  and  dies  in  conform- 
ity to  a  lavr.  A  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground  in  obedi- 
ence to  a  law.  Nay,  there  are  matters  in  the  ordina- 
ry transactions  of  life,  such  as  one  might  suppose  were 
the  mere  result  of  chance,  Avhich  are  ascertained  to  be 
of  remarkable  accuracy  when  taken  in  the  mass.  For 
instance,  the  number  of  letters  put  in  the  post-office 
without  an  address,  the  number  of  letters  wrongly  di- 
rected, the  number  containing  money,  the  number  un- 
stamped, continue  nearly  the  same,  in  relation  to  the 
number  of  letters  posted,  from  one  year  to  another. 

Now,  it  is  the  business  of  man  to  understand  the  law^s 
of  health,  and  to  provide  against  their  consequences; 
as,  for  instance,  in  the  matter  of  sickness,  accident,  and 
premature  death.  We  can  not  escape  the  consequences 
of  transgression  of  the  natural  laws,  though  we  may 
have  meant  well.  "VYe  must  have  done  well.  The 
Creator  does  not  alter  his  laws  to  accommodate  them 
to  our  ignorance.  lie  has  furnished  us  with  intelli- 
gence, so  tliat  we  may  understand  them  and  act  upon 
them :  otherwise  we  must  suffer  the  consequences  in 
inevitable  pain  and  sorrow. 

We  often  hear  the  cry  raised,  "Will  nobody  help 
us  ?"  It  is  a  spiritless,  hopeless  cry.  It  is  sometimes 
a  cry  of  revolting  meanness,  especially  when  it  issues 
from  those  who,  with  a  little  self-denial,  sobriety,  and 
thrift,  miglit  easily  help  themselves.  ^ 

i\[any  people  have  yet  to  learn  that  virtue,  knowl- 
edge, freedom,  and  prosperity  must  spring  from  them- 
selves. Legislation  can  do  very  little  for  tliem :  it  can 
not  make  them  sober,  intelligent,  and  well-doing.     Tlie 


38  Prosperous  Times  [chap.  ii. 

prime  miseries  of  most  men  have  their  origin  in  causes 
far  removed  from  Acts  of  Parliament. 

The  spendthrift  laughs  at  legislation.  The  drunkard 
defies  it,  and  arrogates  the  right  of  dispensing  with 
forethought  and  self-denial,  throwing  upon  others  the 
blame  of  his  ultimate  wretchedness.  The  mob  orators, 
who  gather  "the  millions"  about  them,  are  very  wide 
of  the  mark,  when,  instead  of  seeking  to  train  their 
crowds  of  hearers  to  habits  of  frugality,  temperance, 
and  self-culture,  they  encourage  them  to  keep  up  the 
cry,  "  Will  nobody  help  us  ?" 

The  cry  sickens  the  soul.  It  shows  gross  ignorance 
of  the  first  elements  of  personal  welfare.  Help  is  in 
men  themselves.  They  were  born  to  help  and  to  ele- 
vate themselves.  They  must  work  out  their  own  sal- 
vation. The  poorest  men  have  done  it ;  why  should 
not  every  man  do  it?  The  brave,  upward  spirit,  ever 
conquers. 

The  number  of  well-paid  workmen  in  this  country 
has  become  very  large,  who  might  easily  save  and 
economize,  to  the  improvement  of  their  moral  well- 
being,  of  their  respectability  and  independence,  and  of 
their  status  in  society  as  men  and  citizens.  They  are 
improvident  and  thriftless  to  an  extent  Avhich  proves 
not  less  hurtful  to  their  personal  happiness  and  domes- 
tic comfort,  than  it  is  injurious  to  the  society  of  which 
they  form  so  important  a  part. 

In  "  prosperous  times  "  they  spend  their  gains  reck- 
lessly ;  and  when  adverse  times  come,  they  are  at  once 
plunged  in  misery.  Money  is  not  used,  but  abused ; 
and  when  wage -earning  people  should  be  providing 
against  old  age,  or  for  the  wants  of  a  growing  family, 
they  are,  in  too  many  cases,  feeding  folly,  dissipation, 
and  vice.  Let  no  one  say  that  this  is  an  exaggerated 
picture.  It  is  enough  to  look  round  in  any  neighbor- 
hood, and  see  how  much  is  spent  and  how  little  is 


CHAP.  II.]  the  least  Prosperous.  89 

saved ;  what  a  large  proportion  of  earnings  goes  to  tlie 
beer-shop,  and  how  little  to  the  savings-bank  or  the 
benefit  society. 

"Prosperous  times"  are  very  often  the  least  pros- 
perous of  all  times.  In  prosperous  times,  mills  are 
•working  full  time  ;  men,  women,  and  children  are  paid 
high  wages;  warehouses  are  emptied  and  filled;  goods 
are  manufactured  and  exported  ;  wherries  full  of  prod- 
uce pass  along  the  streets ;  immense  luggage  trains 
run  along  the  railways,  and  heavily  laden  ships  leave 
our  shores  daily  for  foreign  ports,  full  of  the  products 
of  our  industry.  Every  body  seems  to  be  becoming 
richer  and  more  prosperous.  But  we  do  not  think  of 
whether  men  and  women  are  becoming  wiser,  better 
trained,  less  self-indulgent,  more  religiously  disposed, 
or  living  for  any  higher  purpose  than  the  satisfaction 
of  the  animal  appetite. 

If  this  apparent  prosperity  be  closely  examined,  it 
will  be  found  that  expenditure  is  increasing  in  all  di- 
rections. There  are  demands  for  higher  wages;  and 
the  higher  wages,  when  obtained,  are  spent  as  soon 
as  earned.  Intemperate  habits  are  formed,  and,  once 
formed,  the  habit  of  intemperance  continues.  Increased 
Avages,  instead  of  being  saved,  are,  for  the  most  part, 
spent  in  drink. 

Thus,  when  a  population  are  thoughtless  and  improv- 
ident, no  kind  of  material  prosperity  will  benefit  them. 
Unless  they  exercise  forethought  and  economy,  they 
Avill  alternately  be  in  a  state  of  "hunger  and  .burst." 
When  trade  falls  off",  as  it  usually  does  after  excep- 
tional prosperity,  they  will  not  be  comforted  by  the 
thought  of  what  they  might  have  saved,  had  it  ever 
occurred  to  them  that  the  "prosperous  times"  might 
not  have  proved  permanent. 

During  prosperous  times,  Saint  Monday  is  regular- 
ly observed.     The  bank  holiday  is  repeated  weekly. 


40  National  Prosperity.  [chap.  ii. 

"  Where  are  all  the  workmen  ?"  said  a  master  to  his 
foreman,  on  going  the  rounds  among  his  builders; 
*'this  work  must  be  pushed  on,  and  covered  in  while 
tlie  fine  weather  lasts."  "Why,  sir,"  said  the  foreman, 
"  this  is  Monday ;  and  they  have  not  spent  all  their 
money  yet."  Dean  Boyd,  preaching  at  Exeter  on  be- 
half of  the  Devonshire  hospitals,  expressed  his  belief 
that  the  annual  loss  to  the  work-people  engaged  in  the 
woolen  manufacture,  the  cotton  trade,  the  brick-laying 
and  building  trade,  by  Idle  Monday,  amounted  to  over 
seven  millions  sterling. 

If  man's  chief  end  were  to  manufacture  cloth,  silk, 
cotton,  hardware,  toys,  and  china ;  to  buy  in  the  cheap- 
est market,  and  to  sell  in  the  dearest ;  to  cultivate  land, 
grow  corn,  and  graze  cattle ;  to  live  for  mere  money 
profit,  and  hoard  or  spend  as  the  case  might  be,  we 
might  then  congratulate  ourselves  upon  our  national 
prosperity.  But  is  this  the  chief  end  of  man  ?  Has 
he  not  faculties,  affections,  and  sympathies,  besides 
muscular  organs?  Has  not  his  mind  and  heart  certain 
claims,  as  well  as  his  mouth  and  his  back?  Has  he 
not  a  soul  as  well  as  a  stomach  ?  And  ought  not 
"  prosperity  "  to  include  the  improvement  and  well-be- 
ing of  his  morals  and  intellect  as  well  as  of  his  bones 
and  muscles  ? 

Mere  money  is  no  indication  of  prosperity.  A  man's 
nature  may  remain  the  same.  It  may  even  grow  more 
stunted  and  deformed,  while  he  is  doubling  his  ex- 
penditure, or  adding  cent,  per  cent,  to  his  hoards  yearly. 
It  is  the  same  with  the  mass.  The  increase  of  their 
gains  may  merely  furnish  them  with  increased  means 
for  gratifying  animal  indulgences,  unless  their  moral 
character  keeps  pace  with  their  physical  advancement. 
Double  the  gains  of  an  uneducated,  overworked  man, 
in  a  time  of  prosperity,  and  what  is  the  result  ?  Sim- 
ply that  you  have  furnished  him  with  the  means  of 


CHAP.  II.]  Moral  Independence,  41 

eating  and  drinking  more !  Thus,  not  even  the  mate- 
rial well-being  of  the  population  is  secured  by  that 
condition  of  things  which  is  defined  by  political  econo- 
mists as  "  national  prosperity."  And  so  long  as  the  mor- 
al elements  of  the  question  are  ignored,  this  kind  of 
"prosperity"  is,  we  believe,  calculated  to  produce  far 
more  mischievous  results  than  good.  It  is  knowledge 
and  virtue  alone  that  can  confer  dignity  on  a  man's 
life;  and  the  growth  of  such  qualities  in  a  nation  are 
the  only  true  marks  of  its  real  prosperity ;  not  the  in- 
finite manufacture  and  sale  of  cotton  prints,  toys,  hard- 
ware, and  crockery. 

The  Bishop  of  Manchester,  when  preaching  at  a  har- 
vest thanksgiving  near  Preston,  referred  to  a  letter 
which  he  had  received  from  a  clergyman  in  the  South 
of  England,  who,  after  expressing  his  pleasure  at  the 
fact  that  the  ao-ricultural  laborers  were  receivino:  hicch- 
er  wages,  lamented  "  that  at  present  the  only  result  he 
could  discover  from  their  higher  wages  was  that  a 
great  deal  onore  beer  was  consumed.  If  this  was  the 
use  we  were  making  of  this  prosperity,  we  could  hard- 
ly call  it  a  blessing  for  which  we  had  a  right  or  ground 
to  thank  God.  The  true  prosperity  of  the  nation  con- 
sisted not  so  much  in  the  fact  that  the  nation  was  grow- 
ing in  wealth — thougli  wealtli  was  a  necessary  attri- 
bute of  prosperity — but  that  it  was  growing  in  virtue ; 
and  that  there  was  a  more  equable  distribution  of  com- 
fort, contentment,  and  the  things  of  this  lower  world." 

In  making  the  preceding  observations,  we  do  not  in 
the  least  advocate  the  formation  of  miserly,  penurious 
liabits ;  for  we  hate  the  scrub,  the  screw,  the  miser. 
All  tliat  we  contend  for  is,  that  men  should  provide  for 
the  future  ;  tliat  they  should  provide  during  good  times 
for  the  bad  times  which  almost  invariably  follow  them  ; 
tliat  they  should  lay  by  a  store  of  savings  as  a  break- 
water against  want,  and  make  sure  of  a  little  fund  which 


42  What  Thrift  Requires.  [CHAP.  ii. 

may  maintain  them  in  old  age,  secure  their  self-respect, 
and  add  to  their  personal  comfort  and  social  well-being. 
Thrift  is  not  in  any  way  connected  with  avarice,  usury, 
greed,  or  selfishness.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  very  reverse  of 
these  disgusting  dispositions.  It  means  economy  for 
the  purpose  of  securing  independence.  Thrift  requires 
that  money  should  be  used,  and  not  abused — that  it 
should  be  honestly  earned  and  economically  employed — 

**  Not  for  to  put  it  in  a  hedge, 
Not  for  a  train  attendant — 
But  for  the  glorious  privilege 
Of  being  Independent." 


CHAPTER  III. 

IMPROVIDENCE. 

"The  man  who  liasaAvife  and  children  has  given  hostages  to  Fort- 
une."— LonD  Bacon. 

"In  all  conditions  and  circumstances,  well-being  is  in  the  power  of 
those  who  have  power  over  themselves." — J.  J.  Gurney. 

"Where  is  their  common  sense?  Alas,  what  imprudence!  Ear- 
ly marriages;  many  children;  poor-rates,  and  the  work-house 

They  are  born;   they  are  wretched;   they  die In  no  foreign 

country,  of  fiir  less  civilization  than  England,  is  there  the  same  im- 
providence."— Lord  Lytton. 

"Xo  man  oppresses  thee,  O  free  and  independent  franchiser;  but 
does  not  this  stupid  pewter  pot  oppress  thee?  No  son  of  Adam  can 
bid  thee  come  or  go,  but  tliis  absurd  pot  of  heavy-wet  can  and  does. 
Thou  art  the  thrall,  not  of  Cedric  the  Saxon,  but  of  thy  own  brutal  ap- 
petites, and  tliis  accursed  dish  of  liquor.  And  thou  pratest  of  thy  '  lib- 
erty,' thou  entire  blockhead!" — Carlyle. 

"Never  did  any  publike  misery 

Eise  of  it  selfe ;  God's  plagues  still  grounded  are 

On  common  staines  of  our  Humanity  : 
And  to  the  flame,  which  ruineth  Mankind, 
Man  gives  the  matter,  or  at  least  gives  winde." — Daniell, 

ENGLAND  is  one  of  the  richest  countries  in  the 
world.  Our  merchants  are  enterprising,  onr  man- 
ufacturers are  industrious,  our  laborers  are  hard-work- 
ing. There  is  an  accumulation  of  wealth  in  the  coun- 
try to  which  past  times  can  offer  no  parallel.  The 
Bank  is  gorged  with  gold.  There  never  was  more  food 
in  tlie  empire ;  there  never  was  more  money.  There 
is  no  end  to  our  manufacturing  productions,  for  the 
steam-engine  never  tires.  And  yet,  notwithstanding 
all  this  wealth,  there  is  an  enormous  mass  of  povert)''. 
Close  alongside  the  Wealth  of  Nations,  there  gloomily 


44  Misery  and  Wealth.  [chap.  hi. 

stalks  the  Misery  of  Nations  —  luxurious  case  resting 
upon  a  dark  background  of  wretchedness. 

Parliamentary  reports  have  again  and  again  reveal- 
ed to  us  the  miseries  endured  by  certain  portions  of 
our  working  population.  They  have  described  the  peo- 
ple employed  in  fixctories,  workshops,  mines,  and  brick- 
fields, as  well  as  in  the  pursuits  of  country  life.  We 
have  tried  to  grapple  with  the  evils  of  their  condition 
by  legislation,  but  it  seems  to  mock  us.  Those  who 
sink  into  poverty  are  fed,  but  tliey  remain  paupers. 
Those  who  feed  them  feel  no  compassion ;  and  those 
who  are  fed  return  no  gratitude.  There  is  no  bond  of 
sympathy  between  the  givers  and  the  receivers.  Thus 
the  Haves  and  the  Have-nots,  the  opulent  and  the 
indigent,  stand  at  the  two  extremes  of  the  social  scale, 
and  a  wide  gulf  is  fixed  between  them. 

Among  rude  and  savage  people  the  condition  of 
poverty  is  uniform.  Provided  the  bare  appetites  are 
satisfied,  suffering  is  scarcely  felt.  Where  slavery 
exists,  indigence  is  little  known ;  for  it  is  the  master's 
interest  to  keep  the  slave  in  a  condition  fit  for  labor, 
and  the  employer  generally  takes  care  to  supply  the 
animal  wants  of  the  employed.  It  is  only  when  society 
becomes  civilized  and  free,  and  man  enters  into  com- 
petition with  his  fellows,  that  he  becomes  exposed  to 
indigence,  and  experiences  social  misery.  Where  civ- 
ilization, as  in  this  country,  has  reached  its  highest 
point,  and  where  large  accumulations  of  wealth  have 
been  made,  the  misery  of  the  indigent  classes  is  only 
rendered  more  acute  by  the  comfort  and  luxury  with 
which  it  is  placed  in  immediate  contrast. 

Much  of  the  existing  misery  is  caused  by  selfishness 
— by  the  greed  to  accumulate  wealth,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  by  improvidence,  on  the  other.  Accumulation  of 
money  has  become  the  great  desire  and  passion  of  the 
age.     Tlie  wealth  of  nations,  and  not  the  happiness  of 


CHAP.  III.]  The  Uncivilized.  45 

nations,  is  the  principal  aim.  We  study  political  econ- 
omy, and  let  social  economy  shift  for  itself.  Regard 
for  "Number  One"  is  the  prevailing  maxim.  High 
profits  are  regarded  as  the  summum  honv.in — no  matter 
how  obtained,  or  at  what  sacrifice.  Money  is  our  god  ; 
"Devil  take  the  hindmost"  our  motto.  The  spirits  of 
darkness  rule  supreme — 

'•Mammon  has  led  them  on, 
Mammon,  the  least  erect  of  all  the  spirits 
That  fell  from  heaven." 

With  respect  to  the  poorer  classes — what  has  become 
of  them  in  the  midst  of  our  so-called  civilization?  An 
immense  proportion  of  them  remain  entirely  uncivil- 
ized. Though  living  in  a  Christian  country,  Christian- 
ity has  never  reached  them.  They  are  as  uncivilized 
and  unchristianized  as  the  Trinobantes  were  at  the 
landing  of  Julius  Ca?sar,  about  nineteen  hundred  years 
ago.  Yet  these  uncivilized  people  live  in  our  midst. 
St.  James's  and  St.  Giles's  lie  close  together.  In  the 
parks  of  London  you  may  see  how  gold  is  worshiped ; 
in  the  East  End  of  London  you  may  see  to  what  depths 
human  misery  may  fall. 

They  work,  eat,  drink,  and  sleep:  that  constitutes 
their  life.  They  think  nothing  of  providing  for  to- 
morrow, or  for  next  week,  or  for  next  year.  They 
abandon  themselves  to  their  sensual  appetites,  and 
make  no  provision  whatever  for  the  future.  The 
thought  of  adversity,  or  of  coming  sorrow,  or  of  the 
helplessness  that  comes  with  years  and  sickness,  never 
crosses  their  minds.  In  these  respects  they  resemble 
the  savage  tribes,  who  know  no  better,  and  do  no 
worse.  Like  the  North  American  Indians,  they  debase 
themselves  by  the  vices  which  accompany  civilization, 
but  make  no  use  whatever  of  its  benefits  and  advan- 
tages. 

Captain  Parry  found  the  Esquimaux  near  the  North 


46  The  East  End.  [CHAP.  ill. 

Pole  as  uncivilized  as  the  miserable  creat-ures  who  in- 
habit the  dens  of  our  great  cities.  They  were,  of  course, 
improvident;  for,  like  savages  generally,  they  never 
save.  They  were  always  either  feasting  or  famished. 
When  they  found  a  quantity  of  whale's  blubber,  they 
would  eat  as  much  of  it  as  they  could,  and  hide  the 
rest.  Yet  their  improvidence  gave  them  no  concern. 
Even  when  they  had  been  without  food  or  fuel  for 
days  together,  they  would  be  as  gay  and  good-humor- 
ed as  usual.  They  never  thought  of  how  they  should 
be  provided  for  to-morrow.  Saving  for  the  future 
forms  no  part  of  the  savage  economy. 

Among  civilized  peoples,  cold  is  said  to  be  the  par- 
ent of  frugality.  Thus  the  Northern  nations  of  Eu- 
rope owe  a  portion  of  their  prosperity  to  the  rigor  of 
their  climate.  Cold  makes  them  save  during  summer, 
to  provide  food,  coal,  and  clothing  during  winter.  It 
encourages  house-building  and  housekeeping.  Hence 
Germany  is  more  industrious  than  Sicily  ;  Holland  and 
Belgium  than  Andalusia ;  North  America  and  Canada 
than  Mexico. 

When  the  late  Edward  Denison,  M.P.  for  Newark, 
with  unexampled  self-denial,  gave  up  a  large  portion 
of  his  time  and  labor  to  reclaim  the  comparatively 
uncivilized  population  of  the  East  End  of  London,  the 
first  thing  he  did  was  to  erect  an  iron  church  of  two 
stories,  the  lower  part  of  which  was  used  as  a  school 
and  lecture  room,  and  also  as  a  club  where  men  and 
boys  might  read,  play  games,  and  do  any  thing  else 
that  might  keep  them  out  of  the  drinking -houses. 
"What  is  so  bad  in  this  quarter,"  said  Mr.  Denison, 
"  is  the  habitual  condition  of  this  mass  of  humanity — 
its  uniform  mean  level ;  the  absence  of  any  thing  more 
civilizing  than  a  grinding  organ  to  raise  the  ideas  be- 
yond the  daily  bread  and  beer;  the  utter  want  of  edu- 
cation ;  the  complete  indifference  to  religion ;  with  the 


CHAP.  III.]  Edward  Denison.  47 

fruits  of  all  this — improvidence,  dirt,  and  their  second- 
aries, crime  and  disease There  is  no  one  to  give 

a  push  to  struggling  energy,  to  guide  aspiring  intel- 
ligence, or  to  break  the  fall  of  unavoidable  misfort- 
une      The  mission  clergyman,"  he  goes  on  to  say, 

"  is  a  sensible,  energetic  man,  in  whose  hands  the  work 
of  civilizing  the  people  is  making  as  much  progress  as 
can  be  expected.  But  most  of  his  energy  is  taken  up 
in  serving  tables,  nor  can  any  great  advance  be  made 
while  every  nerve  has  to  be  strained  to  keep  the  peo- 
ple from  absolute  starvation.  And  this  is  what  hap- 
pens every  winter What  a  monstrous  thing  it  is 

that  in  the  richest  country  in  the  world  large  masses 
of  the  population  should  be  condemned  annually,  by  a 
natural  operation  of  nature,  to  starvation  and  death. 
It  is  all  very  well  to  say,  how  can  it  be  helped  ?  Why, 
it  was  not  so  in  our  grandfathers'  time.  Behind  us 
they  were  in  many  ways,  but  they  were  not  met  every 
winter  with  the  spectacle  of  starving  thousands.  The 
fact  is,  we  have  accepted  the  marvelous  prosperity 
which  has  in  the  last  twenty  years  been  granted  us, 
without  reflecting  on  the  conditions  attached  to  it,  and 
without  nerving  ourselves  to  the  exertion  and  the  sac- 
rifices which  their  fulfillment  demands." 

And  yet  Mr.  Denison  clearly  saw  that  if  the  people 
were  sufiiciently  educated,  and  taught  to  practice  the 
virtue  of  Thrift,  much  of  this  misery  might  be  prevent- 
ed. "  The  people,"  he  elsewhere  says,  "  create  their  des- 
titution and  their  disease.  Probably  there  are  hardly 
any  of  the  most  needy  who,  if  they  had  been  only  mod- 
erately frugal  and  provident,  could  not  have  placed 
themselves  in  a  position  to  tide  over  the  occasional 
months  of  want  of  work,  or  of  sickness,  which  there 

always  must  be I  do  not  underrate  the  difficulty 

of  laying  by  out  of  weekly  earnings,  but  I  say  it  can 
be  done.     A  dock-laborer,  while  a  young,  strong,  un- 


48  Thrift  in  Guernsey.  [CHAP.  in. 

married  man,  could  lay  by  half  his  weekly  wages,  and 
such  men  are  almost  sure  of  constant  employment." 

After  showing  how  married  men  might  also  save, 
Mr.  Denison  goes  on  to  say,  "  Saving  is  within  the 
reach  of  nearly  every  man,  even  if  quite  at  the  bottom 
of  the  tree ;  but  if  it  were  of  any  thing  like  common  oc- 
currence, the  destitution  and  disease  of  this  city  would 
be  kept  within  quite  manageable  limits.  And  this 
will  take  place.  I  may  not  live  to  see  it,  but  it  will 
be  within  two  generations.  For,  unfortunately,  this 
amount  of  change  may  be  effected  without  the  least 
improvement  in  the  spiritual  condition  of  the  people. 
Good  laws,  energetically  enforced,  with  compulsory  ed- 
ucation, supplemented  by  gratuitous  individual  exer- 
tion (which  will  then  have  a  much  reduced  field  and 
much  fairer  prospects),  will  certainly  succeed  in  giv- 
ing the  mass  of  the  people  so  much  light  as  will  gener- 
ally guide  them  into  so  much  industry  and  morality  as 
is  clearly  conducive  to  their  bodily  ease  and  advance- 
ment in  life." 

The  difference  in  thriftiness  between  the  English 
work-people  and  the  inhabitants  of  Guernsey  is  thus 
referred  to  by  Mr.  Denison :  "  The  difference  between 
poverty  and  pauperism  is  brought  home  to  us  very 
strongly  by  what  I  see  here.  In  England  Ave  have 
people  faring  sumptuously  while  they  are  getting  good 
wages,  and  coming  on  the  parish  paupers  the  moment 
those  wages  are  suspended.  Here,  people  are  never 
dependent  on  any  support  but  their  own ;  but  they 
live,  of  their  own  free-will,  in  a  style  of  frugality  which 
a  landlord  would  be  hooted  at  for  suggesting  to  his 
cottagers.  We  pity  Hodge,  reduced  to  bacon  and 
greens,  and  to  meat  only  once  a  week.  The  principal 
meal  of  a  Guernsey  farmer  consists  of  soupe  d  la  graisse, 
which  is,  being  interpreted,  cabbage  and  pease  stewed 
with  a  little  dripping.     This  is  the  daily  dinner  of  men 


CHAP.  III.]         Improvidence  and  Misery.  49 


who  01C71  perhaps  three  or  four  cows,  a  pig  or  two, 
and  poultry.  But  the  produce  and  the  flesh  of  these 
creatures  they  sell  in  the  market,  investing  their  gains 
in  extension  of  land  or  stock,  or  in  "  quarters,"  that  is, 
"  rent-charges  on  land,  certificates  of  which  are  read- 
ily bought  and  sold  in  the  market."* 

Mr.  Denison  died  before  he  could  accomplish  much. 
He  was  only  able  to  make  a  beginning.  The  misery, 
arising  from  improvidence,  which  he  so  deeply  de- 
plored, still  exists,  and  is  even  more  widely  spread. 
It  is  not  merely  the  artisan  who  spends  all  that  he 
earns,  but  the  classes  above  him,  who  can  not  plead  the 
same  excuse  of  ignorance.  Many  of  what  are  called 
the  "upper"  classes  are  no  more  excusable  than  the 
"  lower."  They  waste  their  means  on  keeping  up  ap- 
pearances, and  in  feeding  folly,  dissipation,  and  vice. 

No  one  can  reproach  the  English  workman  with 
want  of  industry.  He  works  harder  and  more  skill- 
fully than  the  workman  of  any  other  country  ;  and  he 
might  be  more  comfortable  and  independent  in  his 
circumstances,  Avere  he  as  prudent  as  he  is  laborious. 
But  improvidence  is  unhappily  the  defect  of  the  class. 
Even  the  best-paid  English  workmen,  though  earning 
more  money  than  the  average  of  professional  men,  still 
for  the  most  part  belong  to  the  poorer  classes  because 
of  their  thoughtlessness.  In  prosperous  times  they  are 
not  accustomed  to  make  provision  for  adverse  times ; 
and  when  a  period  of  social  pressure  occurs,  they  are 
rarely  found  more  than  a  few  weeks  ahead  of  positive 
want. 

Hence  the  skilled  workman,  unless  trained  in  good 
habits,  may  exhibit  no  higher  a  life  than  that  of  the 
mere  animal;  and  the  earning  of  increased  wages  will 


*  "  Letters  and  Other  Writings  of  the  Late  Edward  Denison,  M.P.," 
pp.  141, 142. 

3 


50  jSocial  Degradation.  [ciiAP.  iii. 

only  furnish  him  with  increased  means  for  indulging 
iu  the  gratification  of  his  grosser  appetites.  Mr.  Chad- 
wick  says  that,  during  the  cotton  famine,  "  families 
trooped  into  the  relief  rooms  in  the  most  abject  condi- 
tion, whose  previous  aggregate  wages  exceeded  the  in- 
come of  many  curates — as  liad  many  of  the  individual 
workmen."*  In  a  time  of  prosperity,  working-people 
feast,  and  in  a  time  of  adversity  they  "  clem."  Their 
earnings,  to  use  their  own  phrase,  "  come  in  at  the 
spigot  and  go  out  at  the  bung-hole."  When  prosperity 
comes  to  an  end,  and  they  are  paid  off,  they  rely  upon 
chance  and  providence — the  providence  of  the  Improv- 
ident ! 

Thougli  trade  has  invariably  its  cycles  of  good  and 
bad  years,  like  the  lean  and  fat  kine  in  Pharaoh's 
dream — its  bursts  of  prosperity,  followed  by  glut, 
panic,  and  distress — the  thoughtless  and  spendthrift 
take  no  heed  of  experience,  and  make  no  better  pro- 
vision for  the  future.  Improvidence  seems  to  be  one 
of  the  most  incorrigible  of  faults.  "  There  are  whole 
neighborhoods  in  the  manufacturing  districts,"  says 
Mr.  Baker,  in  a  recent  report, "  where  not  only  are  there 
no  savings  worth  mentioning,  but  where,  within  a  fort- 
night of  being  out  of  work,  the  workers  themselves  are 
starving  for  want  of  the  merest  necessaries."  Kot  a 
strike  takes  place,  but  immediately  the  workmen  are 
plunged  into  destitution;  their  furniture  and  Avatches 
are  sent  to  the  pawn-shop,  while  deplorable  appeals 
are  made  to  the  charitable,  and  numerous  families  are 
cast  .upon  the  poor-rates. 

This  habitual  improvidence — though  of  course  there 
are  many  admirable  exceptions — is  the  real  cause  of 
the  social  degradation  of  the  artisan.     This,  too,  is  the 


*  "Address  on  Economy  and  Trade,"  by  Edwin  Chadwick,  C.B., 
p.  22. 


CHAP.  III.]        Fatalism  of  Improvidence.  51 

prolific  source  of  social  misery.  But  the  misery  is  en- 
tirely the  result  of  human  ignorance  and  self-indulgence. 
For  though  the  Creator  has  ordained  poverty,  the  poor 
are  not  necessarily,  nor  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  miser- 
able. Misery  is  the  result  of  moral  causes — most  com- 
monly of  individual  vice  and  improvidence. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Norris,  in  speaking  of  the  liabits  of  the 
highly  paid  miners  and  iron-workers  of  South  StaiFord- 
shire,  says,  "  Improvidence  is  too  tame  a  word  for  it — 
it  is  recklessness ;  here  young  and  old,  married  and  un- 
married, are  uniformly  and  almost  avowedly  self-indul- 
gent spendthrifts.  One  sees  this  reckless  character 
marring  and  vitiating  the  nobler  traits  of  their  nature. 
Their  gallantry  in  the  face  of  danger  is  akin  to  fool- 
hardiness  ;  their  power  of  intense  labor  is  seldom  ex- 
erted except  to  compensate  for  time  lost  in  idleness 
and  revelry;  their  readiness  to  make  *  gatherings'  for 
their  sick  and  married  comrades  seems  only  to  obviate 
the  necessity  of  previous  saving ;  their  very  creed — 
and,  after  their  sort,  they  are  a  curiously  devotional 
people,  holding  frequent  prayer-meetings  in  the  pits — 
often  degenerates  into  fanatical  fatalism.  But  it  is 
seen  far  more  painfully  and  unmistakably  in  the  alter- 
nate plethora  and  destitution  between  which,  from 
year's  end  to  year's  end,  the  whole  population  seems  to 
oscillate.  The  prodigal  revelry  of  the  reckoning  nighty 
the  drunkenness  of  Sunday,  the  refusal  to  work  on 
Monday  and  perhaps  Tuesday,  and  then  the  untidiness 
of  their  homes  toward  the  latter  part  of  the  two  or 
three  weeks  which  intervene  before  the  next  pay-day ; 
their  children  kept  from  school,  their  wives  and  daugh- 
ters on  the  pit-bank,  their  furniture  in  the  pawn-shop ; 
the  crowded  and  miry  lanes  in  which  they  live,  their 
liouses  often  cracked  from  top  to  bottom  by  the 
*  crowning -in'  of  the  ground,  without  drainage,  or 
ventilation,  or  due  supply  of  water  —  such  a  state  of 


52  Self-taxation.  [char  hi. 

things  as  this,  co-existing  with  earnings  which  might 
insure  comfort  and  even  prosperity,  seems  to  prove 
that  no  legislation  can  cure  the  evil." 

"VYe  have  certainly  had  numerous  "  reforms."  We 
have  had  household  suffrage,  and  vote  by  ballot.  We 
have  relieved  the  Avorking- classes  of  taxes  on  corn, 
cattle,  coffee,  sugar,  and  provisions  generally;  and 
imposed  a  considerable  proportion  of  the  taxes  from 
which  they  have  been  relieved  on  the  middle  and  up- 
per ranks.  Yet  these  measures  have  produced  but  lit- 
tle improvement  in  the  condition  of  the  working-peo- 
ple. They  have  not  applied  the  principle  of  reform  to 
themselves.  They  have  not  begun  at  home.  Yet  the 
end  of  all  reform  is  the  improvement  of  the  individual. 
Every  thing  that  is  wrong  in  society  results  from  that 
which'is  wrong  in  the  individual.  When  men  are  bad, 
society  is  bad. 

Franklin,  with  his  shrewd  common  sense,  observed : 
"  The  taxes  are  indeed  very  heavy ;  and  if  those  laid 
on  by  the  Government  w^ere  the  only  ones  we  had  to 
pay,  we  might  more  easily  discharge  them;  but  w^e 
have  many  others,  and  much  more  grievous  to  some  of 
us.  We  are  taxed  quite  as  much  by  our  idleness,  three 
times  as  much  by  our  pride,  and  four  times  as  much  by 
our  folly ;  and  from  these  taxes  the  commissioners  can 
not  ease  or  deliver  iis  by  allowing  an  abatement." 

Lord  John  Russell  once  made  a  similar  statement  to 
a  body  of  working-men  who  waited  upon  him  for  the 
purpose  of  asking  relief  from  taxation.  *'  You  com- 
plain of  the  taxes,"  he  said ;  "  but  think  of  how  you 
tax  yourselves.  You  consume  about  fifty  millions 
yearly  in  drink.  Is  there  any  government  that  would 
dare  to  tax  you  to  that  extent?  You  have  it  in  your 
own  power  greatly  to  reduce  the  taxes,  and  that  with- 
out in  any  way  appealing  to  us." 

Complaining  that  the  laws  are  bad,  and  that  the 


CHAP.  III.]  Slowness  of  Progress.  53 

taxes  are  heavy,  will  not  mend  matters.  Aristocratic 
government,  and  the  tyranny  of  masters,  are  nothing 
like  so  injurious  as  the  tyranny  of  vicious  appetites. 
Men  are  easily  led  away  by  the  parade  of  their  miser- 
ies, which  are,  for  the  most  part,  voluntary  and  self-im- 
posed— the  results  of  idleness,  thriftlessness,  intemper- 
ance, and  misconduct.  To  blame  others  for  what  we 
suffer  is  always  more  agreeable  to  our  self-pride  than 
to  blame  ourselves.  But  it  is  perfectly  clear  that  peo- 
ple who  live  from  day  to  day  without  plan,  without 
rule,  without  forethought — who  spend  all  their  earn- 
ings, without  saving  any  thing  for  the  future — are  pre- 
paring beforehand  for  inevitable  distress.  To  provide 
only  for  the  present  is  the  sure  means  of  sacrificing  the 
future.  What  hope  can  there  be  for  a  people  whose 
only  maxim  seems  to  be,  "  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to- 
morrow we  die?" 

All  this  may  seem  very  hopeless ;  yet  it  is  not  en- 
tirely so.  The  large  earnings  of  the  working- classes 
is  an  important  point  to  start  with.  The  gradual  dif- 
fusion of  education  will  help  them  to  nse,  and  not 
abuse,  their  means  of  comfortable  living.  The  more 
extended  knowledge  of  the  uses  of  economy,  frugality, 
and  thrift,  will  help  them  to  spend  their  lives  more 
soberly,  virtuously,  and  religiously.  Mr.  Denison  was 
of  opinion  that  much  of  this  might  be  accomplished 
"within  two  generations."  Social  improvement  is  al- 
ways very  slow.  How  extremely  tardy  has  been  the 
progress  of  civilization  !  How  gradually  have  its  hu- 
manizing influences  operated  in  elevating  the  mass  of 
the  people !  It  requires  the  lapse  of  generations  be- 
fore its  effects  can  be  so  much  as  discerned ;  for  a  gen- 
eration is  but  as  a  day  in  the  history  of  civilization. 
It  has  cost  most  nations  ages  of  war,  before  they  could 
conquer  their  right  of  existence  as  nations.  It  took 
four  centuries  of  persecutions  and  martyrdoms  to  es- 


54  A  Gratifying  Contrast.  [chap.  III. 

tablish  Christianity,  and  two  centuries  of  civil  wars  to 
establish  the  Reformation.  The  emancipation  of  the 
bondsmen  from  feudal  slavery  was  only  reached  through 
long  ages  of  misery.  From  the  days  in  which  our 
British  progenitors  rushed  to  battle  in  their  war-paint 
— or  those  more  recent  times  when  the  whole  of  the 
laboring  people  were  villains  and  serfs,  bought  and  sold 
with  the  soil  which  they  tilled — to  the  times  in  which 
we  now  live,  how  wide  the  difference,  how  gratifying 
the  contrast !  Surely  it  ought  not  to  be  so  diflicult  to 
put  an  end  to  the  Satanic  influences  of  thriftlessness, 
drunkenness,  and  improvidence ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MEANS     OF    SAVING. 

"Self-reliance  and  self-denial  will  teach  a  man  to  drink  out  of  his 
own  cistern,  and  eat  his  own  sweet  bread,  and  to  learn  and  labor  trnly 
to  get  his  own  living,  and  carefully  to  save  and  expend  the  good  things 
committed  to  his  trust." — Lord  IJacox. 

"Love,  therefore,  labor :  if  thou  should'st  not  want  it  for  food,  thou 
may'st  for  physic.  It  is  wholesome  to  the  body,  and  good  for  the 
mind  :  it  prevents  the  fruit  of  idleness." — William  Penx. 

"Tlie  parent  who  does  not  teach  his  child  a  trade,  teaches  him  to 
be  a  thief." — Brahninical  Scriptures. 

THOSE  who  say  that "  it  can't  be  done  "  are  proba- 
bly not  aware  that  many  of  the  working-classes 
are  in  the  receipt  of  incomes  considerably  larger  than 
those  of  professional  men. 

That  this  is  the  case,  is  not  by  any  means  a  secret. 
It  is  published  in  blue-books,  it  is  given  in  evidence 
before  parliamentary  committees,  it  is  reported  in  news- 
papers. Any  coal-owner,  or  iron-master,  or  cotton-spin- 
ner will  tell  you  of  the  high  wages  that  he  pays  to  his 
work-people. 

Families  employed  in  the  cotton  manufacture  are 
able  to  earn  over  three  j^ounds  a  week,  according  to 
the  number  of  children  employed.*  Tlicir  annual  in- 
comes will  thus  amount  to  about  a  hundred  and  fifty 


*  A  return  of  seven  families  employed  by  Henry  Ashworth,  New 
Cayley  Mills,  Lancashire,  is  given  in  tiie"Blue-book, "entitled,  "Keport 
of  the  Paris  Universal  Exhibition,  18G7,  containing  the  Kcturns  rela- 
tive to  the  New  Order  of  Reward,"  p.  1GI},  Of  the  seven  families,  the 
lowest  earnings  per  family  amounted  to  two  jiouiuls  fonrteen  shillings 
and  sixpence,  and  tl^.e  higliest  to  three  pounds  nineteen  shillings  a  week. 


56  Earnings  of  Operatives.  [chap.  iv. 

pounds  a  year — which  is  considerably  larger  than  the 
incomes  of  many  professional  men  —  higher  than  the 
average  of  country  surgeons,  higher  than  the  average 
of  the  clergy  and  ministers  of  all  denominations,  high- 
er than  the  average  of  the  teachers  of  common  schools, 
and  probably  higher  than  the  average  income  of  the 
middle  classes  of  the  United  Kingdom  generally. 

An  employer  at  Blackburn  informs  us  that  many 
persons  earn  upward  of  five  pounds  a  week — or  equal 
to  an  average  income  of  two  hundred  and  sixty  pounds 
a  year.  Such  families,  he  says, "  ought  not  to  expend 
more  than  three  pounds  weekly.  The  rest  should  be 
saved.  But  most  of  them,  after  feeding  and  clothing 
themselves,  spend  the  rest  in  drink  and  dissipation." 

The  wages  are  similar  in  the  Burnley  district,  where 
food,  drink,  and  dress  absorb  the  greater  part  of  the 
work-people's  earnings.  In  this,  as  in  other  factory  dis- 
tricts, "  the  practice  of  young  persons  (mill-workers) 
boarding  with  their  parents  is  prevalent,  and  is  very 
detrimental  to  parental  authority."  Another  reporter 
says, "  Wages  are  increasing  :  as  there  is  more  money, 
and  more  time  to  spend  it  in,  sobriety  is  not  on  the  in- 
crease, especially  among  females." 

The  operatives  employed  in  the  woolen  manufacture 
receive  about  forty  shillings  a  week,  and.  some  as  much 
as  sixty,*  besides  the  amount  earned  by  their  children. 

A  good  mechanic  in  an  engine-shop  makes  from  thir- 
ty-five to  forty-five  shillings  a  week,  and  some  mechan- 
ics make  much  larger  wages.  Multiply  these  figures, 
and  it  will  be  found  that  they  amount  to  an  annual 
income  of  from  a  hundred  to  a  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds  a  year. 

But  the  colliers  and  iron  -  workers  are  paid  much 


*  See  tlie  above  "Blue-book, "p.  57,  certifyinfij  the  wages  paid  by 
Bliss  and  Son,  of  Chipping  Norton  Woolen  Factory. 


CHAP.  IV.]         Colliers  and  Iron-workers.  57 

hio-her  wafres.  One  of  the  larG:est  iron-masters  recent- 
ly  published  in  the  newspapers  the  names  of  certain 
colliers  in  his  employment  who  were  receiving  from 
four  to  five  pounds  a  week — or  equal  to  an  annual  in- 
come of  from  two  hundred  to  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  a  year.* 

Iron- workers  are  paid  a  still  higher  rate  of  wages. 
A  plate -roller  easily  makes  three  hundred  a  year.f 
The  rollers  in  rail- mills  often  make  much  more.  In 
busy  times  they  have  made  as  much  as  from  seven  to 
ten  guineas  a  week,  or  equal  to  from  three  to  five  hun- 
dred a  year.  J  But,  like  the  workers  in  cotton -mills, 
the  iron -workers  are  often  helped  by  their  sons,  who 
are  also  paid  high  wages.     Thus,  the  under-hands  are 

*  Richard  Fothergill,  Esq.,  INI. P.  He  published  a  subsequent  let- 
ter, fiom  wliich  we  extract  the  following : 

"Xo  doubt  such  earnings  seem  large  to  clerks  and  educated  men, 
who,  after  receiving  a  costly  education,  have  often  to  struggle  hard  for 
bread  ;  but  they  are  nevertheless  the  rightful  earnings  of  steady  man- 
ual labor;  and' I  have  the  pleasure  of  adding  that,  while  all  steady, 
well-disposed  colliers,  in  good  health,  could  make  equally  good  wages, 
many  hundreds  in  South  Wales  are  quietly  doing  as  much  or  more : 
witness  a  steady  collier  in  my  employment,  with  his  two  sons  living 
at  home,  whose  monthly  pay  ticket  has  averaged  thirty  pounds  for  the 
past  twelvemonth. 

^'Another  steady  collier  within  my  information,  aided  by  his  son, 
has  earned  during  the  past  five  months  upward  of  twenty  pounds  a 
month  on  the  average ;  and  from  his  manual  labor  as  an  ordinary  coll- 
ier— for  it  is  of  the  working  colliers  and  firemen  I  am  speaking  all 
along — he  has  built  fifteen  good  houses,  and,  disregarding  all  menaces, 
he  continues  his  habits  of  steady  industry,  whereby  he  hopes  to  accu- 
mulate an  independence  for  liis  family  in  all  events." 

t  See  Messrs.  Fox,  Head,  and  Co.'s  return,  in  the  "Blue-book  "  above 
referred  to.  This  was  the  rate  of  wages  at  Middlesborougli,  in  York- 
shire. In  South  Wales,  the  wages  of  the  principal  operatives  engaged 
in  the  iron  manufacture  recently  were— Puddlers,  nine  shillings  a 
day;  first  heaters  on  the  rail-mills,  eight  shillings  and  ninepence  a 
day ;  second  heaters,  eleven  shillings  and  sevcnpence ;  roughers,  ten 
shillings  and  ninepence ;  rollers,  thirteen  shillings  and  twoj)ence,  or 
equal  to  that  amount. 

X  Even  at  the  present  time,  when  business  is  so  much  depressed, 
the  mill-rollers  make  an  average  wage  of  five  pounds  ten  shillings  a 
week. 

3* 


58  Earnings  of  Colliers.  [chap.  iv. 

usually  boj^s  from  fourteen  years  of  age  and  upward, 
who  earn  about  nineteen  shillings  a  week;  and  the 
helpers  are  boys  of  under  fourteen,  who  earn  about 
nine  shillings  a  week. 

These  earnings  are  fir  above  the  average  incomes 
of  the  professional  classes.  The  rail-rollers  are  able  to 
earn  a  rate  of  pay  equal  to  that  of  lieutenant-colonels 
in  her  majesty's  Foot -guards;  plate -rollers,  equal  to 
that  of  majors  of  Foot;  and  roughers,  equal  to  that  of 
lieutenants  and  adjutants. 

Goldsmith  spoke  of  the  country  curate  as  "pass- 
ing rich  with  forty  pounds  a  year."  The  incomes  of 
curates  have  certainly  increased  since  the  time  when 
Goldsmith  wrote,  but  nothing  like  the  incomes  of 
skilled  and  unskilled  w^orkmen.  If  curates  merely 
worked  for  money,  they  would  certainly  change  their 
vocation,  and  become  colliers  and  iron-workers. 

When  the  author  visited  Renfrewshire  a  few  years 
ago,  the  colliers  were  earning  from  ten  to  fourteen 
shillings  a  day.  According  to  the  common  saying, 
they  were  "making  money  like  a  minting -machine." 
To  take  an  instance,  a  father  and  three  sons  were  earn- 
ing sixty  pounds  a  month  —  or  equal  to  a  united  in- 
come of  more  than  seven  hundred  pounds  a  year.  The 
father  was  a  sober,  steady,  "  eident "  man.  While  the 
high  wages  lasted,  he  was  the  first  to  enter  the  pit 
in  the  morning,  and  the  last  to  leave  it  at  night.  He 
only  lost  five  days  in  one  year  (1873-'4) — the  loss  be- 
ing occasioned  by  fast-days  and  holidays.  Believing 
that  the  period  of  high  wages  could  not  last  long,  he 
and  his  sons  worked  as  hard  as  they  could.  They 
saved  a  good  deal  of  money,  and  bought  several 
houses;  besides  educating  themselves  to  occupy  high- 
er positions. 

In  the  same  neighborhood,  another  collier,  with  four 
sons,  was  earning  money  at  about  the  same  rate  per 


CHAP.  IV.]  TJie  Revelers.  59 

man;  that  is,  about  seventy-five  pounds  a  month,  or 
nine  hundred  pounds  a  year.  This  family  bought  five 
houses  within  a  year,  and  saved  a  considerable  sum  be- 
sides. The  last  information  we  had  respecting  them 
was  that  the  father  had  become  a  contractor — that  he 
employed  about  sixty  colliers  and  "  reddsmen,"*  and 
was  allowed  so  much  for  every  ton  of  coals  brought  to 
bank.  The  sons  were  looking  after  their  father's  in- 
terests. They  were  all  sober,  diligent,  sensible  men ; 
and  took  a  great  deal  of  interest  in  the  education  and 
improvement  of  the  jDCople  in  their  neighborhood. 

At  the  same  time  that  these  two  families  of  colliers 
were  doing  so  well,  it  was  very  different  with  the  ma- 
jority of  their  fellow -workmen.  These  only  worked 
about  three  days  in  every  week.  Some  spent  their 
earnings  at  the  public -house;  others  took  a  whisky 
"ploy"  at  the  sea-side.  For  that  purpose  they  hired 
all  the  gigs,  droskies,  cabs,  or  "machines,"  about  a  fort- 
night beforehand.  The  results  were  seen,  as  the  suc- 
cessive Monday  mornings  came  round.  The  magis- 
trate sat  in  the  neighboring  town,  where  a  number  of 
men  and  women,  with  black  eyes  and  broken  heads, 
were  brought  before  liim  for  judgment.  Before  the 
time  of  high  wages,  the  court-house  business  was  got 
through  in  an  liour:  sometimes  there  was  no  business 
at  all.  But  when  the  wages  were  doubled,  the  magis- 
trate could  scarcely  get  through  the  business  in  a  day. 
It  seemed  as  if  high  wages  meant  more  idleness,  more 
whisky,  and  more  broken  heads  and  faces. 

These  were  doubtless  "roaring  times"  for  the  coll- 
iers, who,  had  they  possessed  the  requisite  self-denial, 
might  have  made  little  fortunes.  Many  of  the  men 
who  worked  out  the  coal  remained  idle  three  or  four 

*  "Reddsmen"  are  the  men  who  clear  the  way  for  the  colliers. 
They  "  redd  up  "  tlie  ddhn's,  and  build  up  the  roof  (in  the  long-wall 
system)  as  the  coUien,-  advances. 


60  Lord  Elcho  and  the  Colliers.      [chap.  iv. 

days  in  the  week;  while  those  who  burned  the  coal 
were  famished  and  frozen  for  want  of  it.  The  working- 
people  who  were  oiot  colliers  will  long  remember  that 
period  as  the  time  of  the  coal  famine.  While  it  lasted, 
Lord  Elcho  went  over  to  Tranent — a  village  in  East 
Lothian — to  address  the  colliers  upon  their  thriftless- 
ness,  their  idleness,  and  their  attemj^ted  combinations 
to  keep  lip  the  price  of  coal. 

He  had  the  moral  courage — a  quality  much  wanted 
in  these  days — to  tell  his  constituents  some  hard  but 
honest  truths.  He  argued  with  them  about  the  coal 
famine,  and  their  desire  to  prolong  it.  They  were 
working  three  days  a  week,  and  idling  the  other  days. 
Some  of  them  did  not  do  a  stroke  of  work  during  a 
week  or  a  fortnight;  others  were  taking  about  a  hun- 
dred bank  holidays  yearly.  But  what  were  they  do- 
ing with  the  money  they  earned?  Were  they  saving 
it  for  a  rainy  day;  or,  when  the  "roaring  times"  no 
longer  existed,  were  they  preparing  to  fall  back  upon 
the  poor-rates  ?  He  found  that  in  one  case  a  man,  with 
his  two  sons,  was  earning  seven  pounds  in  a  fortnight. 
"I  should  like," he  said,  "to  see  those  Scotchmen  who 
are  in  the  mining  business  taking  advantage  of  these 
happy  times,  and  endeavoring  by  their  industry  to  rise 
from  their  present  position — to  exercise  self-help,  to  ac- 
quire property,  and  possibly  to  become  coal -masters 
themselves." 

"It  had  been  said,  in  a  newspaper,  that  a  miner  was 
earning  wages  equal  to  that  of  a  captain,  and  that  a 
mining  boy  was  earning  wages  equal  to  that  of  a  lieu- 
tenant in  her  majesty's  service.  I  only  know,"  said 
Lord  Elcho,  "  that  I  liave  a  boy  who,  when  he  first 
joined  her  majesty's  service,  was  an  ensign,  and  that 
liis  wage  (to  earn  which,  remember,  he  had,  under  the 
purchase  system,  to  pay  five  hundred  pounds)  was  not 
the  wage  you  are  now  receiving,  but  the  wage  which 


CHAP.  IV.]     High  Wages  and  Heavy  Losses.  61 

you  were  receiving  in  bad  times — and  that  was  only- 
five  shillings  a  day."  It  might  be  said  that  the  collier 
risks  his  life  in  earning  his  wages ;  but  so  does  the  sol- 
dier; and  the  gallant  boy  to  whom  Lord  Elclio  refer- 
red afterward  lost  his  life  in  tlie  Ashantee  campaign. 

The  times  of  high  wages  did  not  leave  a  very  good 
impression  on  the  public  mind.  Prices  became  higlicr, 
morals  became  lower,  and  the  work  done  was  badly 
done.  There  was  a  considerable  deterioration  in  the 
character  of  British  workmanship.  We  began  to  rely 
too  much  upon  the  foreigner.  Trade  was  to  a  large 
extent  destroyed,  and  an  enormous  loss  of  capital  was 
sustained,  both  by  the  workmen  and  by  the  masters. 
Lord  Aberdare  was  of  opinion  that  three  millions  ster- 
ling were  lost  by  the  workmen  alone^  during  the  recent 
strike  in  South  Wales.  One  hundred  and  twenty  thou- 
sand workmen  were  in  enforced  idleness  at  once,  and 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pounds  were  lost  ev- 
ery week  in  wages  during  the  time  that  they  remained 
idle. 

What  the  employers  think  of  the  recent  flash  of 
"  prosperity  "  can  easily  be  imagined.  But  it  may  not 
be  unnecessary  to  quote  some  of  the  statements  of 
correspondents.  A  large  employer  of  labor  in  South 
Lancashire  says,  "  Drunkenness  increases,  and  personal 
violence  is  not  sufficiently  discouras^ed.  Hisxh  wao-es 
and  household  suffrage  came  upon  the  people  before 
education  had  prepared  them  for  the  change." 

In  a  large  iron-work  near  Newcastle,  where  the  men 
were  paid  the  highest  wages  for  rolling  plates  and 
rails,  and  where  they  Avere  earning  between  three  and 
four  hundred  pounds  a  year,  the  proprietors  observe, 
"Except  in  a  few  instances,  we  are  afraid  that  work- 
men and  their  families  spend  most  of  their  earnings." 
Another  employer  in  South  Staftbrdshire  says,  "  In  the 
majoritj'-  of  cases,  the  men  employed  in  tlie  iron-works 


62  High  Wages  and  Drink.         [chap.  IV. 

spend  the  whole  of  their  wages  before  the  end  of  the 
following  week.  There  are,  of  course,  some  excejDtions ; 
but  they  are,  unhappily,  very  few."  Another,  in  South 
Wales,  says,  "As  to  the  thrifty  habits  of  the  men,  a 
small  minority  are  careful  and  saving;  they  generally 
invest  their  money  in  cottage  property.  But  the  great 
majority  of  the  men  spend  their  money  often  before 
they  earn  it,  and  that  in  the  most  reckless  way.  Large 
sums  are  spent  in  drink:  this  leads  to  idleness;  and, 
owing  to  drinking  and  idling,  the  works  are  kej^t  short 
of  men  until  about  Wednesday  in  each  week,  when  the 
greater  part  of  the  most  idly  disposed  have  become 
sobered  down.  Of  course,  wlien  wages  are  low,  the 
men  work  more  regularly.  There  is  less  drinking,  and 
altogether  the  condition  of  the  place  is  healthier  in  ev- 
ery respect,  both  in  a  moral  and  physical  sense." 

Another  observer  remarks  that  the  miners  of  Bilston 
are  about  six  thousand  in  number,  and  they  spend  more 
than  fifty  thousand  pounds  annually  in  the  purchase 
of  ale  and  liquors.  Their  improvidence  may  be  studied 
with  advantage  in  the  Bilston  market.  No  other  mar- 
ket is  supplied  with  finer  poultry,  or,  comparatively  to 
the  population,  in  greater  abundance ;  and  this  is  chief- 
ly, if  not  entirely,  for  the  consumption  of  the  laboring 
classes — for  the  resident  inhabitants,  not  directly  asso- 
ciated with  those  classes,  are  few  in  number.  Sordid 
and  ill-favored  men  may  there  be  seen  buying  on  Sat- 
urday chickens,  ducks,  and  geese,  which  they  eat  for 
supper ;  and  in  some  instances  bottled  porter  and  wine. 
Yet,  so  little  have  they  beforehand  in  the  world,  that 
if  the  works  were  to  stop,  they  would  begin  within  a 
fortnight  to  pawn  the  little  furniture  of  their  cottages, 
and  their  clothes,  for  subsistence  and  for  drink. 

Mr.  Chambers,  of  Edinburgh,  in  his  description  of  the 
working -classes  of  Sunderland,  makes  these  remarks: 
"With  deep  sorrow  I  mention  that  everywhere  one 


CHAP.  IV.]  Sensual  Indulgence.  63 

tale  was  told.  Intemperance  prevails  to  a  large  ex- 
tent; good  wages  are  squandered  on  mean  indulgences; 
there  is  little  care  for  the  morrow,  and  the  work-house 
is  the  ultimate  refuge.  One  man,  a  skilled  worker  in 
an  iron-foundry,  was  pointed  out  as  having  for  years 
received  a  wage  of  one  guinea  a  day,  or  six  guineas  a 
week;  he  had  spent  all,  mostly  in  drink,  and  was  now 
reduced  to  a  lower  department  at  a  pound  a  week." 

Another  illustration  occurs.  A  clerk  at  Blackburn 
took  a  house  for  twenty  pounds  a  year,  and  sublet  the 
cellars  underneath  to  a  factory  operative  at  a  rental  of 
five  pounds  a  year.  The  clerk  had  a  wife,  four  children, 
and  a  servant;  the  operative  had  a  wife  and  five  chil- 
dren. The  clerk  and  his  family  were  well-dressed, 
their  children  went  to  school,  and  all  went  to  church 
on  Sundays.  The  operative's  fixmily  went,  some  to  the 
factory,  others  to  the  gutter,  but  none  to  school ;  they 
were  ill-dressed,  excepting  on  Sundays,  when  they  ob- 
tained their  clothes  from  the  pawn-shop.  As  the  Sat- 
urdays came  round,  the  frying-pan  in  the  cellar  was 
almost  constantly  at  work  until  Monday  night ;  and  as 
regularly  as  Thursday  arrived,  the  bundle  of  clothes 
was  sent  to  the  pawn-shop.  Yet  the  income  of  the  up- 
per-class family  in  the  higher  part  of  the  house  was  a 
hundred  a  year;  and  the  income  of  the  lower-class 
family  in  the  cellar  was  fifty  pounds  more — tliat  is,  a 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds  a  year ! 

An  employer  in  the  same  neighborhood  used  to  say, 
"I  can  not  afford  lamb,  salmon,  young  ducks  and  green 
pease,  new  potatoes,  strawberries,  and  such-like,  until 
after  my  hands  have  been  consuming  these  delicacies 
of  the  season  for  some  three  or  four  weeks." 

The  intense  selfishness,  thriftlessness,  and  folly  of 
these  highly  paid  operatives  are  scarcely  credible.  Ex- 
ceptions are  frequently  taken  to  calling  the  working- 
classes  "the  lower  orders;"  but  "the   lower  orders" 


64:  Indifference  to  Well-heiiig.  [CHAP.  IV. 

they  always  will  be,  so  long  as  they  indicate  such  sensu- 
al indulgence  and  improvidence.  In  cases  such  as  these, 
improvidence  is  not  only  a  great  sin,  and  a  feeder  of 
sin,  but  it  is  a  great  cruelty.  In  the  case  of  the  father 
of  a  family,  who  has  been  instrumental  in  bringing  a 
number  of  helpless  beings  into  the  world,  it  is  heartless 
and  selfish  in  the  highest  degree  to  spend  money  on 
personal  indulgences  such  as  drink,  which  do  the  par- 
ent no  good,  and  the  mother  and  the  children,  through 
the  hereditary  bad  example,  an  irreparable  amount  of 
mischief.  The  father  takes  sick,  is  thrown  out  of  work, 
and  his  children  are  at  once  deprived  of  the  means  of 
subsistence.  The  reckless  parent  has  not  even  taken 
the  precaution  to  enter  a  provident  or  a  benefit  soci- 
ety; and  while  he  is  sick,  his  wife  and  children  are 
suffering  the  pangs  of  hunger.  Or,  he  dies ;  and  the 
poor  creatures  are  thrown  upon  the  charity  of  stran- 
gers, or  on  the  miserable  pittance  wrung  from  the  poor- 
rates. 

It  would  seem  to  be  of  little  use  preaching  np  an 
extension  of  rights  to  a  people  who  are  so  supinely  in- 
different to  their  own  well-being — who  are  really  un- 
concerned about  their  own  elevation.  The  friends  of 
the  industrious  should  faithfully  tell  them  that  they 
must  exercise  prudence,  economy,  and  self-denial,  if 
they  would  really  be  raised  from  selfish  debasement, 
and  become  elevated  to  the  dignity  of  thinking  beings. 
It  is  only  by  practicing  the  principles  of  self-depend- 
ence that  they  can  achieve  dignity,  stability,  and  con- 
sideration in  society ;  or  that  they  can  acquire  such 
influence  and  power  as  to  raise  them  in  the  scale  of 
social  w^ell-being. 

Brown,  the  Oxford  shoe-maker,  was  of  opinion  that 
"  a  good  mechanic  is  the  most  independent  man  in  the 
world."  At  least,  he  ought  to  be  such.  lie  has  always 
a  market  for  his  skill ;  and  if  he  be  ordinarily  diligent, 


CHAP.  IV.]        Hugh  Miller  s  Experience.  65 

sober,  and  intelligent,  he  may  be  useful,  healtliy,  and 
happy.  With  a  thrifty  use  of  his  means,  he  may,  if 
he  earns  from  thirty  to  forty  shillings  a  week,  dress 
well,  live  w^ell,  and  educate  his  children  creditably. 
Hugh  Miller  never  had  more  than  twenty -four  shil- 
lings a  W'eek  while  working  as  a  journeyman  stone- 
mason, and  here  is  the  result  of  his  fifteen  years'  expe- 
rience : 

"Let  me  state,  for  it  seems  to  be  very  much  the 
fashion  to  draw  dolorous  pictures  of  the  condition  of 
the  laboring  classes,  that  from  the  close  of  the  first 
year  in  wdiich  I  worked  as  a  journeyman  until  I  took 
final  leave  of  the  mallet  and  chisel,  I  never  knew  what 
it  was  to  want  a  shilling :  that  my  tw^o  uncles,  my 
grandfather,  and  the  mason  with  whom  I  served  my 
apprenticeship — all  working-men — had  had  a  similar 
experience;  and  that  it  was  the  experience  of  my  fa- 
ther also.  I  can  not  doubt  that  deserving  mechanics 
may,  in  exceptional  cases,  be  exposed  to  want ;  but  I 
can  as  little  doubt  that  the  cases  are  exceptional,  and 
that  much  of  the  suffering  of  the  class  is  a  consequence 
either  of  improvidence  on  the  part  of  the  competently 
skilled,  or  of  a  course  of  trifling  during  the  term  of 
apprenticeship,  quite  as  common  as  trifling  at  school, 
that  always  lands  those  wdio  indulge  in  it  in  the  hap- 
less position  of  the  inferior  w^orkman." 

It  is  most  disheartening  to  find  that  so  many  of  the 
highest-paid  workmen  in  the  kingdom  should  spend  so 
large  a  portion  of  their  earnings  in  their  own  personal 
and  sensual  gratification.  Many  spend  a  third,  and 
others  half,  their  entire  earnings  in  drink.  It  would 
be  considered  monstrous,  on  the  part  of  any  man  whose 
lot  has  been  cast  among  the  educated  classes,  to  ex- 
hibit such  a  degree  of  selfish  indulgence ;  and  to  spend 
even  one-fourth  of  his  income  upon  objects  in  which 
his  wife  and  children  have  no  share. 


66  Mr.  Roehuclcs  Advice.  [chap.  I  v. 

Mr.  Roebuck  recently  asked,  at  a  public  meeting,* 
"  Why  should  the  man  who  makes  two  or  three  hun- 
dred pounds  a  year  by  his  mechanical  labor  be  a  rude, 
coarse,  brutal  fellow?  There  is  no  reason  why  he 
should  be  so.  Why  should  he  not  be  like  a  gentle- 
man? W^hy  should  not  his  house  be  like  my  house? 
When  I  go  home  from  my  labor,  what  do  I  find?  I 
find  a  cheerful  wife — I  find  an  elegant,  educated  wom- 
an. I  have  a  daughter ;  she  is  the  same.  Why  should 
not  you  find  the  same  happy  influences  at  home  ?  I 
want  to  know,  when  the  working-man  comes  from  his 
daily  labor  to  his  home,  why  he  should  not  find  his 
table  spread  as  mine  is  spread ;  why  he  should  not  find 
liis   wife    well-dressed,  cleanly,  loving,  kind,  and   liis 

daughter  the   same? We   all  know  that  many 

working-men,  earning  good  wages,  spend  their  money 
in  the  beer -house  and  in  drunkenness,  instead  of  in 
clothing  their  wives  and  families.  Why  should  not 
these  men  spend  their  wages  as  I  spend  my  small  sti- 
pend, in  intellectual  pleasures,  in  joining  with  my  fam- 
ily in  intellectual  pursuits  ?  Why  should  not  working- 
men,  after  enjoying  their  dinners  and  thanking  God  for 
what  they  have  got,  turn  their  attention  to  intellectual 
enjoyments,  instead  of  going  out  to  get  drunk  in  the 
nearest  pot-house  ?  Depend  on  it,  these  things  ought 
to  go  to  the  heart  of  a  working-man ;  and  he  is  not  a 
friend  to  the  working-man  who  talks  to  him  and  makes 
him  believe  that  he  is  a  great  man  in  the  state,  and 
who  don't  tell  him  what  are  the  duties  of  his  position." 

It  is  difiicult  to  account  for  the  waste  and  extrava- 
gance of  working  people.  It  must  be  the  hereditary 
remnant  of  the  oriofinal  savaoje.  It  must  be  a  survival. 
The  savage  feasts  and  drinks  until  every  thing  is  gone  ; 
and  then  he  hunts  or  goes  to  war.     Or  it  may  be  the 

*  Meeting  of  the  Mechanics'  Institutes  at  Dewsbury,  Yorkshire. 


CHAP.  IV.]  Survival  of  Slavery.  67 

survival  of  slavery  in  the  state.  Slavery  was  one  of 
the  first  of  human  institutions.  The  strong  man  made 
the  weak  man  work  for  him.  The  warlike  race  sub- 
dued the  less  warlike  race,  and  made  them  their  slaves. 
Thus  slavery  existed  from  the  earliest  times.  In 
Greece  and  Rome  the  fighting  was  done  by  freemen, 
the  labor  by  helots  and  bondsmen.  But  slavery  also 
existed  in  the  family.  The  wife  was  the  slave  of  her 
husband,  as  much  as  the  slave  whom  he  bought  in  the 
public  market. 

Slavery  long  existed  among  ourselves.  It  existed 
when  Caesar  landed.  It  existed  in  Saxon  times,  when 
the  household  work  was  done  by  slaves.  The  Saxons 
were  notorious  slave-dealers,  and  the  Irish  were  their 
best  customers.  The  principal  mart  was  at  Bristol, 
from  whence  the  Saxons  exported  large  numbers  of 
slaves  into  Ireland,  so  that,  according  to  Irish  histori- 
ans, there  was  scarcely  a  house  in  Ireland  without  a 
British  slave  in  it. 

When  the  Normans  took  possession  of  Englan(^,  they 
continued  slavery.  They  made  slaves  of  the  Saxons 
themselves,  whom  they  decreed  villains  and  bondsmen. 
Domesday-book  shows  that  the  toll  of  the  market  at 
Lewes  in  Sussex  was  a  penny  for  a  cow,  and  fourpence 
for  a  slave — not  a  serf  {adscriptus  glehce)^  but  an  un- 
conditional bondsman.  From  that  time  slavery  con- 
tinued in  various  forms.  It  is  recorded  of  "  the  good 
old  times  "  that  it  was  not  till  the  reign  of  Henry  IV. 
(1399-1413)  that  villains,  farmers,  and  mechanics  were 
permitted  by  law  to  put  their  children  to  school ;  and 
long  after  that,  they  dared  not  educate  a  son  for  the 
Church  without  a  license  from  the  lord.*  The  kings 
of  England,  in  their  contests  with  the  feudal  aristocra- 
cy, gradually  relaxed  the  slave -laws.     They  granted 

♦  Henry's  "History  of  England,"  book  v.,  chap.  4. 


68  Extinctio7i  of  Slavenj.  [chap.  iv. 

charters  founding  royal  burghs;  and  when  the  slaves 
fled  into  them,  and  were  able  to  conceal  themselves 
for  a  year  and  a  day,  they  then  became  freemen  of  the 
burgh,  and  were  declared  by  law  to  be  free. 

The  last  serfs  in  England  were  emancipated  in  tlie 
reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth ;  but  the  last  serfs  in  Scot- 
land were  not  emancipated  until  the  reign  of  George 
III,  at  the  end  of  last  century.  Before  then,  the  coll- 
iers and  salters  belonged  to  the  soil.  They  were 
bought  and  sold  with  it.  They  had  no  power  to  deter- 
mine what  their  wages  should  be.  Like  the  slaves  in 
the  Southern  States  of  America,  they  merely  accepted 
such  sustenance  as  was  sufficient  to  maintain  their  mus- 
cles and  sinews  in  working  order. 

They  were  never  required  to  save  for  any  purpose, 
for  they  had  no  right  to  their  own  savings.  They  did 
not  need  to  provide  for  to-morrow ;  their  masters  pro- 
vided for  them.  The  habit  of  improvidence  was  thus 
formed,  and  it  still  continues.  The  Scotch  colliers,  who 
were  recently  earning  from  ten  to  fourteen  shillings  a 
day,  are  the  grandsons  of  men  who  were  slaves  down 
to  the  end  of  last  century.  The  preamble  of  an  act 
passed  in  1799  (39th  Geo.  III.,  c.  56)  runs  as  follows: 
"  Whereas,  before  the  passing  of  an  act  of  the  fifteenth 
of  his  present  ranjesty,  many  colliers,  coal-bearers,  and 
Baiters  icere  bound  for  life  to,  and  transferable  loith,  the 
collieries  and  salt-ioorks  lohere  they  loorJced,  but  by  the 
said  act  their  bondage  was  taken  off  and  they  were  de- 
clared to  be  free,  notwithstanding  which  many  colliers 
and  coal-bearers  and  salters  still  continue  in  a  state  of 
bondage  from  not  having  complied  with  the  provisions, 
or  from  having  become  subject  to  the  penalties  of  that 
act,"  etc.  The  new  act  then. proceeds  to  declare  them 
free  from  servitude.  The  slaves  formerly  earned  only 
enough  to  keep  them,  and  laid  by  nothing  whatever  for 
the  future.     Hence  we  say  that  the  improvidence  of 


CHAP.  IV.]  Power  Unexercised.  69 

the  colliers,  as  of  the  iron-workers,  is  but  a  survival  of 
the  system  of  slavery  in  our  political  constitution. 

Matters  have  now  become  entirely  different.  The 
■workman,  no  matter  Avhat  his  trade,  is  comparatively 
free.  The  only  slavery  from  which  he  suffers  is  his 
passion  for  drink.  In  this  respect  he  still  resembles 
the  Esquimaux  and  the  North  American  Indians. 
Would  he  be  really  free?  Then  he  must  exercise  the 
powers  of  a  free,  responsible  man.  He  must  exercise 
self-control  and  self-restraint,  and  sacrifice  present  per- 
sonal gratifications  for  prospective  enjoyments  of  a 
much  higher  kind.  It  is  only  by  self-respect  and  self- 
control  that  the  position  of  the  workman  can  be  really 
elevated. 

The  workiii2:-man  is  now  more  of  a  citizen  than  he 
ever  was  before.  He  is  a  recognized  2:)0wer,  and  has 
been  admitted  within  the  pale  of  the  constitution. 
For  him  mechanics'  institutes,  newspapers,  benefit  so- 
cieties, and  all  the  modern  agencies  of  civilization,  ex- 
ist in  abundance.  He  is  admitted  to  the  domain  of  in- 
tellect ;  and,  from  time  to  time,  great  thinkers,  artists, 
engineers,  philosophers,  and  poets,  rise  up  from  his  or- 
der, to  proclaim  that  intellect  is  of  no  rank,  and  nobili- 
ty of  no  exclusive  order.  The  influences  of  civilization 
are  rousing  society  to  its  depths ;  and  daily  evidences 
are  furnished  of  the  rise  of  the  industrious  classes  to  a 
position  of  social  power.  Discontent  may,  and  does, 
exhibit  itself;  but  discontent  is  only  the  necessary 
condition  of  improvement ;  for  a  man  will  not  be  stim- 
ulated to  rise  up  into  a  higher  condition  unless  he  be 
first  made  dissatisfied  with  the  lower  condition  out  of 
which  he  has  to  rise.  To  be  satisfied  is  to  repose ; 
while,  to  be  rationally  dissatisfied,  is  to  contrive,  to 
work,  and  to  act,  with  an  eye  to  future  advancement. 

The  working-classes  very  much  underestimate  them- 
selves.    Though  they  receive  salaries  or  wages  beyond 


70  Earnings  and  Character.         [cHAP.  IV. 

the  average  earnings  of  professional  men,  yet  many  of 
them  have  no  other  thouglit  than  that  of  living  in  mean 
liouses,  and  spending  their  surplus  time  and  money  in 
drink.  They  seem  wanting  in  respect  for  themselves 
as  well  as  for  their  class.  They  encourage  the  notion 
that  there  is  something  degrading  in  labor ;  than  which 
nothing:  can  be  more  false.  Labor  of  all  kinds  is  diof- 
nifying  and  honorable.  It  is  the  idler,  above  all  oth- 
ers, who  is  undignified  and  dishonorable. 

"Let  the  working-man,"  says  Mr.  Sterling,  "try  to 
connect  his  daily  task,  however  mean,  with  the  highest 
thoughts  he  can  apprehend,  and  he  thereby  secures  the 
rightfulness  of  his  lot,  and  is  raising  his  existence  to  his 
utmost  o:ood.  It  is  because  the  workinsj-man  has  failed 
to  do  this,  and  because  others  have  failed  to  help  him 
as  they  ought,  tliat  the  lot  of  labor  has  hitherto  been 
associated  with  what  is  mean  and  degrading. 

With  respect  to  remuneration,  the  average  of  skilled 
mechanics  and  artisans,  as  we  have  already  said,  are 
better  paid  than  the  average  of  working  curates.  The 
working  engineer  is  better  paid  than  the  ensign  in  a 
marching  regiment.  The  foreman  in  any  of  our  large 
engineering  establishments  is  better  paid  than  an  army 
surgeon.  The  rail-roller  receives  over  a  guinea  a  day, 
while  an  assistant  navy  surgeon  receives  fourteen  shil- 
lings, and  after  three  years'  service,  twenty -one  shil- 
lings, with  rations.  The  majority  of  dissenting  minis- 
ters are  much  worse  paid  than  the  better  classes  of 
skilled  mechanics  and  artisans ;  and  the  average  of 
clerks  employed  in  counting-houses  and  w^arehouses 
receive  w^ages  very  much  lower. 

Skilled  w'orkmen  might — and,  if  they  had  the  Avill, 
they  would — occupy  a  social  position  as  high  as  the 
educated  classes  we  refer  to.  What  prevents  them  ris- 
ing? Merely  because  they  will  not  use  their  leisure  to 
cultivate  their  minds.     They  have  sufficient  money ;  it 


CHAP.  IV.]  Ignorance  is  Power.  71 

is  culture  that  they  want.  They  ought  to  know  that 
the  position  of  men  in  society  does  not  depend  so  raucli 
upon  their  earnings  as  upon  their  character  and  intel- 
ligence. And  it  is  because  they  neglect  their  abun- 
dant opportunities  —  because  they  are  thriftless  and 
spend  their  earnings  in  animal  enjoyments,  because 
they  refuse  to  cultivate  the  highest  parts  of  their  nat- 
ure—  that  they  are  excluded,  or  rather  self-excluded, 
from  those  'social  and  other  privileges  in  which  they 
are  entitled  to  take  part. 

Notwithstanding  their  high  wages,  they  for  the  most 
part  cling  to  the  dress,  the  language,  and  the  manners 
of  their  class.  They  appear,  during  their  leisure  hours, 
in  filthy  dresses  and  unwashed  hands.  No  matter 
how  skilled  the  workman  may  be,  he  is  ready  to  sink 
his  mind  and  character  to  the  lowest  level  of  his  co- 
workers. Even  the  extra  money  which  he  earns  by 
his  greater  skill  often  contributes  to  demoralize  and 
degrade  him.  And  yet  he  might  dress  as  well,  live  as 
well,  and  be  surrounded  by  the  physical  comforts  and 
intellectual  luxuries  of  professional  men.  But  no  I 
From  week  to  week  his  earnings  are  wasted.  He  does 
not  save  a  farthing;  he  is  a  public-house  victim;  and 
when  work  becomes  slack,  and  his  body  becomes  dis- 
eased, his  only  refuge  is  the  work-house. 

How  are  these  enormous  evils  to  be  cured  ?  Some 
say,  by  better  education ;  others,  by  moral  and  relig- 
ious instruction ;  others,  by  better  homes,  and  better 
wives  and  mothers.  All  these  influences  will  doubtless 
contribute  much  toward  the  improvement  of  the  peo- 
ple. One  thing  is  perfectly  clear  —  that  an  immense 
amount  of  ignorance  prevails,  and  that  such  ignorance 
must  be  dissipated  before  the  lower  classes  can  be  ele- 
vated. Their  whole  character  must  be  changed,  and 
they  must  be  taught  in  early  life  habits  of  forecast  and 
self-control. 


72  Results  of  Ignorance.  [chap.  iv. 

We  often  hear  that  "knowledge  is  power;"  but  we 
never  hear  that  ignorance  is  power.  And  yet  igno- 
rance has  always  had  more  power  in  the  world  than 
knowledofe.  lo^norance  dominates.  It  is  because  of 
the  evil  propensities  of  men  that  the  costly  repressive 
institutions  of  modern  governments  exist. 

Ignorance  arras  men  against  each  other;  provides 
jails  and  penitentiaries;  police  and  constabulary.  All 
the  physical  force  of  the  state  is  provided  by  igno- 
rance; is  required  by  ignorance;  is  very  often  wielded 
by  ignorance.  We  may  well  avow,  then,  that  igno- 
rance is  power. 

Ignorance  is  powerful,  because  knowledge,  as  yet, 
has  obtained  access  only  to  the  minds  of  the  few.  Let 
knowledge  become  more  generally  diffused ;  let  the 
multitude  become  educated,  thoughtful,  and  wise ;  and 
then  knowledge  may  obtain  the  ascendency  over  igno- 
rance.    But  that  time  has  not  yet  arrived. 

Look  into  the  records  of  crime,  and  you  will  find 
that,  for  one  man  possessed  of  wisdom  or  knowledge 
who  commits  a  crime,  there  are  a  hundred  ignorant. 
Or,  into  the  statistics  of  drunkenness  and  imj^rovidence 
of  all  sorts;  still  ignorance  is  predominant.  Or,  into 
the  annals  of  pauperism;  there,  again,  ignorance  is 
power. 

The  principal  causes  of  anxiety  in  this  country  are 
the  social  suffering  and  disease  whicli  proceed  from 
ignorance.  To  mitigate  these,  we  form  associations, 
organize  societies,  spend  money,  and  labor  in  commit- 
tees. But  the  power  of  ignorance  is  too  great  for  us. 
We  almost  despair  while  we  work.  AVe  feel  that  much 
of  our  effort  is  wasted.  We  are  often  ready  to  give 
up  in  dismay,  and  recoil  from  our  encounter  with  the 
powers  of  evil. 

"How  forcible  are  right  words!"  exclaimed  Job. 
Yes !     But,  with  equal  justice,  he  might   have   said, 


CHAP.  IV.]  Increase  of  Knowledge.  73 

"How  forcible  are  wrong  words!"  The  wrong  words 
have  more  power  with  ignorant  minds  than  the  right 
Avords.  They  fit  themselves  into  wrong  heads,  and 
prejudiced  heads,  and  empty  heads;  and  have  power 
over  them.  The  right  words  have  often  no  meaning 
for  them,  any  more  than  if  they  were  the  words  of 
some  dead  language.  The  wise  man's  thoughts  do 
not  reach  the  multitude,  but  fly  over  their  heads. 
Only  the  few  as  yet  apprehend  them. 

The  physiologist  may  discuss  the  laws  of  health,  and 
the  Board  of  Health  may  write  tracts  for  circulation 
among  the  people;  but  half  the  people  can  not  so  much 
as  read ;  and  of  the  remaining  half,  but  a  very  small 
proportion  are  in  the  habit  of  thinhing.  Thus  the 
laws  of  health  are  disregarded  ;  and  when  fever  comes, 
it  finds  a  wide  field  to  work  upon :  in  undrained  and 
filthy  streets  and  back-yards — noisome,  pestilential  dis- 
tricts—  foul,  uncleansed  dwellings  —  large  populations 
ill-supplied  with  clean  water  and  with  pure  air.  There 
death  makes  fell  havoc;  many  destitute  widows  and 
children  have  to  be  maintained  out  of  the  poor-rates ; 
and  then  we  reluctantly  confess  to  ourselves  that  igno- 
rance is  power. 

The  only  method  of  abating  this  power  of  ignorance 
is  by  increasing  that  of  knowledge.  As  the  sun  goes 
up  the  sky,  the  darkness  disappears ;  and  the  owl,  the 
bat,  and  the  beast  of  prey  slink  out  of  sight.  Give 
the  people  knowledge,  give  them  better  education,  and 
thus  crime  will  be  abated — drunkenness,  improvidence, 
lawlessness,  and  all  the  powers  of  evil,  will,  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  disappear.* 

*  The  recent  Reports  of  INIr.  Tremenheere  to  the  Secretary  of  State 
for  the  Home  Department,  with  respect  to  the  condition  of  the  popu- 
lation in  the  iron  and  coal  districts,  show  that  he  places  considerahle 
reliance  upon  the  effect  of  education.  The  evidence  which  he  brouglit 
together  from  all  parts  of  the  country  show  that  the  increase  of  imrao- 

4 


74  Education  not  Enough.  [chap,  iv. 

It  must,  however,  be  admitted  that  education  is  not 
enough.  The  clever  man  may  be  a  clever  rogue ;  and 
the  cleverer  he  is,  the  cleverer  rogue  he  will  be.  Ed- 
ucation, therefore,  must  be  based  upon  religion  and 
morality ;  for  education  by  itself  will  not  eradicate 
vicious  propensities.  Culture  of  intellect  has  but  lit- 
tle eflect  upon  moral  conduct.  You  may  see  clever, 
educated,  literary  men  with  no  conduct  whatever  — 
wasteful,  improvident,  drunken,  and  vicious.  It  fol- 
lows, therefore,  that  education  must  be  based  upon 
the  principles  of  religion  and  morality. 

Nor  has  the  poverty  of  the  people  so  much  to  do 
with  their  social  degradation  as  is  commonly  supposed. 
The  question  is  essentially  a  moral  one.  If  the  income 
of  the  laboring  community  could  be  suddenly  doubled, 
their  happiness  would  not  necessarily  be  increased,  for 
happiness  does  not  consist  in  money ;  in  fact,  the  in- 
creased wages  might  probably  prove  a  curse  instead 
of  a  blessing.  In  the  case  of  many,  there  would  be  an 
increased  consumption  of  drink,  with  the  usual  results 
— an  increase  of  drunken  violence,  and  probably  an  in- 
crease of  crime. 

The  late  Mr.  Clay,  chaplain  of  the  Preston  House 
of  Correction,  after  characterizing  drunkenness  as  the 
GREAT  SIX,  proceeds :  "  It  still  rises,  in  savage  hostility, 

rality  with  the  increase  of  wages  was  attributable  to  the  low  tastes  and 
desires  of  the  people ;  that  the  obstinate  refusal  of  the  men  to  exert 
more  than  two-thirds  of  their  fair  powers  of  work,  by  which  the  cost 
of  production  is  largely  enhanced,  capital  crippled,  and  the  public 
mulcted,  was  due  to  the  same  cause ;  that  their  readiness  to  become 
the  prey  of  unionists  and  agitators  is  traceable  to  their  want  of  the 
most  elementary  principles  of  thought ;  that  most  of  the  accidents 
which  are  of  weekly  occurrence  are  occasioned  by  their  stupidity  and 
ignorance ;  that  wherever  they  have  advanced  in  intelligence,  they 
have  become  more  skillful,  more  subordinate,  and  more  industrious. 
These  facts  have  convinced  the  more  thoughtful  and  far-sighted  mas- 
ters that  the  only  sure  means  of  maintaining  their  ground  under  in- 
creasing foreign  competition,  and  averting  a  social  crisis,  is  to  reform 
the  character  of  the  rising  generation  of  operatives  by  education. 


CHAP.  IV.]        Words  of  Sir  Arthur  Helps.  75 

against  every  thing  allied  to  order  and  religion ;  it 
still  barricades  every  avenue  by  which  truth  and  peace 

seek  to  enter  the  poor  man's  home   and  heart 

AYhatever  may  be  the  predominant  cause  of  crime,  it 
is  very  clear  that  ignorance,  religious  ignorance,  is  the 
chief  ingredient  in  the  character  of  the  criminal.  This 
combines  -svith  the  passion  for  liquor,  and  offenses  num- 
berless are  engendered  by  the  union." 

The  late  Sir  Arthur  Helps,  when  speaking  of  high 
and  low  wages,  and  of  the  means  of  getting  and  spend- 
ing money,  thus  expresses  himself  on  the  subject,  in  his 
"  Friends  in  Council :" 

"My  own  conviction  is,  that  throughout  England 
every  year  there  are  sufficient  wages  given,  even  at  the 
present  low  rate,  to  make  the  condition  of  the  laboring 
j)Oor  quite  different  from  what  it  is.  But,  then,  these 
wages  must  be  well  spent.  I  do  not  mean  that  the 
poor  could  of  themselves  alone  effect  this  change  ;  but 
were  they  seconded  by  the  advice,  the  instruction,  and 
tlie  aid  (not  given  in  money,  or  only  in  money  lent  to 
produce  the  current  interest  of  the  day),  of  the  classes 
above  them,  the  rest  the  poor  might  accomplish  for 
themselves.  And,  indeed,  all  that  the  rich  could  do 
to  elevate  the  poor  could  hardly  equal  the  advantage 
that  would  be  gained  by  the  poor  themselves,  if  they 
could  thoroughly  subdue  that  one  vice  of  drunkenness, 
the  most  wasteful  of  all  the  vices. 

"  In  the  living  of  the  poor  (as  indeed  of  all  of  us) 
there  are  two  things  to  be  considered ;  how  to  get 
money,  and  how  to  spend  it.  Now,  I  believe,  the  ex- 
perience of  employers  will  bear  me  out  in  saying  that 
it  is  frequently  found  that  the  man  with  twenty  shil- 
lings a  w^eek  does  not  live  more  comfortably,  or  save 
more,  than  the  man  with  fourteen  shillings — the  fam- 
ilies of  the  two  men  being  the  same  in  number  and 
general  circumstances.     It  is  probable  that  unless  he 


76  Divine  Uses  of  Knowledge,        [chap.  I  v. 

have  a  good  deal  of  prudence  and  thought,  the  man 
who  gets  at  all  more  than  the  average  of  his  class  does 
not  know  what  to  do  with  it,  or  only  finds  in  it  a 
means  superior  to  that  which  his  fellows  possess  of 
satisfying  his  appetite  for  drinking." 

Notwithstanding,  however,  the  discouraging  circum- 
stances to  w^hich  we  have  referred,  we  must  believe 
that  in  course  of  time,  as  men's  nature  becomes  im- 
proved by  education — secular,  moral,  and  religious — 
they  may  be  induced  to  make  a  better  use  of  their 
means,  by  considerations  of  prudence,  forethought,  and 
parental  responsibility.  A  German  writer  speaks  of 
the  education  given  to  a  child  as  a  capital — equivalent 
to  a  store  of  money — placed  at  its  disposal  by  the  par- 
ent. The  child,  when  grown  to  manhood,  may  employ 
the  education,  as  he  might  employ  the  money,  badly ; 
but  that  is  no  argument  against  the  possession  of  ei- 
ther. Of  course,  the  value  of  education,  as  of  money, 
chiefly  consists  in  its  proper  use.  And  one  of  the  ad- 
vantages of  knowledge  is,  that  the  very  acquisition  of 
it  tends  to  increase  the  capability  of  using  it  aright; 
which  is  certainly  not  the  case  with  the  accumulation 
of  money. 

Education,  however  obtained,  is  always  an  advan- 
tage to  a  man.  Even  as  a  means  of  material  advance- 
ment, it  is  worthy  of  being  sought  after,  not  to  speak 
of  its  moral  uses  as  an  elevator  of  character  and  intel- 
ligence. And  if,  as  Dr.  Lyon  Playfair  insists,  the  com- 
petition between  industrial  nations  must  before  long 
become  a  competition  mainly  of  intelligence,  it  is  obvi- 
ous that  England  must  make  better  provision  for  the 
education  of  its  industrial  classes,  or  be  prepared  to 
fall  behind  in  the  industrial  progress  of  nations. 

"  It  would  be  of  little  avail,"  said  Dr.  Brewster,  of 
Edinburgh,  "  to  the  peace  and  happiness  of  society,  if 
the  great  truths  of  the  material  world  were  confined 


CHAP.  IV.]         Public  /School  Education.  77 

to  the  educated  and  the  wise.  The  organization  of 
science  thus  limited  would  cease  to  be  a  blessing. 
Knowledge  secular,  and  knowledge  divine,  the  double 
current  of -the  intellectual  life-blood  of  man,  must  not 
merely  descend  through  the  great  arteries  of  the  social 
frame ;  it  must  be  taken  up  by  the  minutest  capillaries 
before  it  can  nourish  and  purify  society.  Knowledge 
is  at  once  the  manna  and  the  medicine  of  our  moral 
being.  Where  crime  is  the  bane,  knowledge  is  the  an- 
tidote. Society  may  escape  from  the  pestilence  and 
may  survive  the  famine  ;  but  the  demon  of  Ignorance, 
with  his  grim  adjutants  of  vice  and  riot,  will  pursue 
her  into  her  most  peaceful  haunts,  destroying  our  insti- 
tutions, and  converting  into  a  wilderness  the  paradise 
of  social  and  domestic  life.  The  state  has,  therefore, 
a  great  duty  to  perform.  As  it  punishes  crime,  it  is 
bound  to  prevent  it.  As  it  subjects  us  to  laws,  it 
must  teach  us  to  read  them;  and  while  it  thus  teaches, 
it  must  teach  also  the  ennobling  truths  which  display 
the  power  and  the  wisdom  of  the  great  Lawgiver,  thus 
diffusing  knowledge  while  it  is  extending  education; 
and  thus  making  men  contented  and  happy  and  hum- 
ble, while  it  makes  them  quiet  and  obedient  subjects." 

A  beginning  has  already  been  made  with  public- 
school  education.  Much  still  remains  to  be  done  to 
establish  the  system  throughout  the  empire.  At  pres- 
ent we  are  unable  to  judge  of  the  effects  of  what  has 
been  done.  But  if  general  education  accomplish  as 
much  for  England  as  it  has  already  accomplished  for 
Germany,  the  character  of  this  country  will  be  im- 
mensely improved  during  the  next  twenty  years.  Ed- 
ucation has  almost  banished  drunkenness  from  Ger- 
many ;  and  had  England  no  drunkenness,  no  thrift- 
lessness,  no  reckless  multiplication,  our  social  miseries 
would  be  comparatively  trivial. 

We  must,  therefore,  believe  that  as  intelligence  ex- 


78  Words  of  William  Felhin.         [CHAP.  iv. 

tends  among  the  working-class,  and  as  a  better  moral 
tone  pervades  them,  there  will  be  a  rapid  improvement 
in  their  sober,  thrifty,  and  provident  habits ;  for  these 
form  the  firmest  and  surest  foundations  for  social  ad- 
vancement. There  is  a  growing  desire,  on  the  part  of 
the  more  advanced  minds  in  society,  to  see  the  work- 
ing-men take  uj)  their  right  position.  They  who  do 
society's  work — who  produce,  under  the  direction  of 
the  most  intelligent  of  their  number,  the  wealth  of  the 
nation — are  entitled  to  a  much  higher  place  than  they 
have  yet  assumed.  We  believe  in  this  "good  time 
coming"  for  working  men  and  women;  when  an  at- 
mosphere of  intelligence  shall  pervade  them;  when 
they  will  prove  themselves  as  enlightened,  polite,  and 
independent  as  the  other  classes  of  society.  And,  as 
the  first  and  surest  step  toward  this  consummation,  we 
counsel  them  to  provide — to  provide  for  the  future  as 
well  as  for  the  present ;  to  provide,  in  times  of  youth 
and  plenty,  against  the  times  of  adversity,  misfortune, 
and  old  age. 

"If  any  one  intends  to  improve  his  condition,"  said 
the  late  William  Felkin,  Mayor  of  Nottingham,  him- 
self originally  a  working-man,  "  he  must  earn  all  he 
can,  spend  as  little  as  he. can,  and  make  what  he  does 
spend  bring  him  and  his  family  all  the  real  enjoyment 
he  can.  The  first  saving  which  a  working-man  makes 
out  of  his  earnings  is  the  first  step ;  and  because  it 
is  the  first,  the  most  important  step  toward  true  inde- 
pendence. Now,  independence  is  as  practicable  in  the 
case  of  an  industrious  and  economic,  though  original- 
ly poor,  workman,  as  in  that  of  the  tradesman  or  mer- 
chant— and  is  as  great  and  estimable  a  blessing.  The 
same  process  must  be  attended  to — that  is,  the  entire 
expenditure  being  kept  below  the  clear  income,  all 
contingent  claims  being  carefully  considered  and  pro- 
vided for,  and  the  surplus  held  sacred,  to  be  employed 


CHAP.  IV.]  Self-dependence.  79 

for  those  purposes,  and  those  only,  which  duty  or  con- 
science may  point  out  as  important  or  desirable.  This 
requires  a  course  of  laborious  exertion  and  strict  econ- 
omy, a  little  foresight,  and  possibly  some  privation. 
But  this  is  only  what  is  common  to  all  desirable  ob- 
jects. And  inasmuch  as  I  know  what  it  is  to  labor 
with  the  hands  long  hours,  and  for  small  wages,  as 
well  as  any  workman  to  whom  I  address  myself,  and 
to  practice  self-denial  withal,  I  am  emboldened  to  de- 
clare from  experience  that  the  gain  of  independence, 
or  rather  self-dependence,  for  w^hich  I  plead,  is  worth 
infinitely  more  than  all  the  cost  of  its  attainment ;  and, 
moreover,  that  to  attain  it  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
according  to  circumstances,  is  within  the  power  of  by 
far  the  greater  number  of  skilled  workmen  engaged  in 
our  manufictories." 


CHAPTER  V. 


EXAMPLES  OF   THRIFT. 

** Examples  demonstrate  the  possibility  of  success." — Coltojt. 

"  The  force  of  his  own  merit  makes  his  way." — Shakspeare. 

"  Reader,  attend :  whether  thy  soul 
Soars  Fancy's  flight  beyond  the  Pole, 
Or  darkling  grubs  this  earthly  hole 

In  low  pursuit — 
Know,  prudent,  cautious  self-control 

Is  Wisdom's  root." — Burns. 

**  In  the  family,  as  in  the  state,  the  best  source  of  wealth  is  Economy." 

Cicero. 

"Right  action  is  the  result  of  right  faith  ;  but  a  true  and  right  faith 
can  not  be  sustained,  deepened,  extended,  save  in  a  course  of  right 
action." — M'Combie. 

THRIFT  is  tlie  spirit  of  order  applied  to  domestic 
management  and  organization.  Its  object  is  to 
manage  frugally  the  resources  of  the  family,  to  prevent 
waste,  and  avoid  useless  expenditure.  Thrift  is  un- 
der the  influence  of  reason  and  forethought,  and  never 
works  by  chance  or  by  fits.  It  endeavors  to  make  the 
most  and  the  best  of  every  thing.  It  does  not  save 
money  for  saving's  sake.  It  makes  cheerful  sacrifices 
for  the  present  benefit  of  others ;  or  it  submits  to  vol- 
untary privation  for  some  future  good. 

Mrs.  Inchbald,  author  of  the  "  Simple  Story,"  was, 
by  dint  of  thrift,  able  to  set  apart  the  half  of  her  small 
income  for  the  benefit  of  her  infirm  sister.  There  were 
thus  about  two  pounds  a  week  for  the  maintenance 
of  each.  "Many  times,"  she  says,  "during  the  winter, 
when  I  was  crying  with  cold,  have  I  said  to  myself, 
*  Thank  God,  my  dear  sister  need  not  leave  her  cham- 


CHAP,  v.]  Spirit  of  Order.  81 

ber ;  she  "vvill  find  her  fire  ready  for  her  each  morning, 
for  she  is  now  far  less  able  than  I  am  to  endure  priva- 
tion.' "  Mrs.  Inchbald's  family  were,  for  the  most  part, 
very  poor ;  and  she  felt  it  right  to  support  them  during 
their  numerous  afflictions.  There  is  one  thing  that 
may  be  said  of  benevolence :  that  it  has  never  ruined 
any  one,  though  selfishness  and  dissipation  have  ruined 
thousands. 

The  words  "  Waste  not,  want  not,"  carved  in  stone 
over  Sir  Walter  Scott's  kitchen  fire-place  at  Abbots- 
ford,  express  in  a  few  words  the  secret  of  order  in  the 
midst  of  abundance.  Order  is  most  useful  in  the  man- 
agement of  every  thing — of  a  liousehold,  of  a  business, 
of  a  manufactory,  of  an  army.  Its  maxim  is,  A  place 
for  every  thing,  and  every  thing  in  its  place.  Order 
is  wealth ;  for,  whoever  properly  regulates  the  use  of 
his  income,  almost  doubles  his  resources.  Disorderly 
persons  are  rarely  rich,  and  orderly  jDcrsons  are  rarely 
poor. 

Order  is  the  best  manager  of  time ;  for  unless  work 
is  properly  arranged,  time  is  lost ;  and,  once  lost,  it  is 
gone  forever.  Order  illustrates  many  important  sub- 
jects. Thus,  obedience  to  the  moral  and  natural  law, 
is  order.  Respect  for  ourselves  and  our  neighbors,  is 
order.  Kco;ard  for  the  rights  and  obligations  of  all,  is 
order.  Virtue  is  order.  The  world  began  with  order. 
Chaos  prevailed  before  the  establishment  of  order. 

Thrift  is  the  spirit  of  order  in  human  life.  It  is  the 
prime  agent  in  private  economy.  It  preserves  the 
happiness  of  many  a  household.  And  as  it  is  usually 
woman  who  regulates  the  order  of  the  household,  it  is 
mainly  upon  her  that  the  well-being  of  society  depends. 
It  is  therefore  all  the  more  necessary  that  she  should 
early  be  educated  in  the  habit  and  the  virtue  of  order- 
liuess. 

The  peer,  the  merchant,  the  clerk,  the  artisan,  and 

4* 


82  Examples  of  Economy.  [chap.  v. 

the  laborer  are  all  of  the  same  nature,  born  with  the 
same  propensities,  and  subject  to  similar  influences. 
They  are,  it  is  true,  born  in  different  positions ;  but  it 
rests  with  themselves  whether  they  shall  live  their 
lives  nobly  or  vilely.  They  may  not  have  their  choice 
of  riches  or  poverty,  but  they  have  their  choice 
of  being  good  or  evil  —  of  being  worthy  or  worth- 
less. 

People  of  the  highest  position,  in  point  of  culture  and 
education,  have  often  as  great  privations  to  endure  as 
the  average  of  working -people.  They  have  often  to 
make  their  incomes  go  much  further.  They  have  to 
keep  up  a  social  standing.  They  have  to  dress  better, 
and  live  sufficiently  well  for  the  purposes  of  health. 
Though  their  income  may  be  less  than  that  of  colliers 
and  iron-workers,  they  are  under  the  moral  necessity 
of  educating  their  sons  and  bringing  them  up  as  gen- 
tlemen, so  that  they  may  take  their  fair  share  of  the 
world's  work. 

Thus,  the  tenth  Earl  of  Buchan  brought  up  a  numer- 
ous family  of  children,  one  of  whom  afterward  rose  to 
be  Lord  Chancellor  of  England,  upon  an  income  not 
exceeding  two  hundred  a  year.  It  is  not  the  amount 
of  income,  so  much  as  the  good  use  of  it,  that  marks 
the  true  man ;  and  viewed  in  this  light,  good  sense, 
good  taste,  and  sound  mental  culture  are  among  the 
best  of  all  economists. 

The  late  Dr.  Alton  said  that  his  father  brought  & 
still  larger  family  up  on  only  half  the  income  of  the 
Earl  of  Buchan.  The  following  dedication,  prefixed  to 
his  work  on  "  Clerical  Economics,"  is  worthy  of  being 
remembered  :  "  This  work  is  respectfully  dedicated  to  a 
father,  now  in  the  eighty- third  year  of  his  age,  who, 
on  an  income  which  never  exceeded  a  hundred  pounds 
yearly,  educated,  out  of  a  family  of  twelve  children, 
four  sons  to  liberal  professions,  and  who  has  often  .sent 


CHAP,  v.]  David  Hume.  83 

his  last  shilling  to  each  of  them,  iu  their  turn,  when 
they  were  at  college." 

The  author  might  even  cite  his  own  case  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  advantages  of  thrift.  His  mother  was 
left  a  widow  when  her  youngest  child — the  youngest 
of  eleven — was  only  three  weeks  old.  Notwithstand- 
ing a  considerable  debt  on  account  of  a  suretyship, 
which  was  paid,  she  bravely  met  the  difficulties  of  her 
position  and  pergeveringly  overcame  them.  Though 
her  income  was  less  than  that  of  many  highly  paid 
working-men,  she  educated  her  children  w^ell,  and 
brought  them  up  religiously  and  virtuously.  She  put 
her  sons  in  the  way  of  doing  well,  and  if  they  have  not 
done  so,  it  was  through  no  fault  of  hers. 

Hume,  the  historian,  was  a  man  of  good  family ;  but 
being  a  younger  brother,  his  means  were  very  small. 
His  father  died  while  he  was  an  infant;  he  was  brought 
np  by  his  mother,  who  devoted  herself  entirely  to  the 
rearing  and  educating  of  her  children.  At  twenty- 
three,  young  Hume  went  to  France  to  prosecute  his 
studies.  "There,"  says  he,  in  his  autobiography,  "I 
laid  down  that  plan  of  life  which  I  have  steadily  and 
successfully  pursued.  I  resolved  to  make  a  very  rigid 
frugality,  supply  my  deficiency  of  fortune,  to  maintain 
unimpaired  my  independency,  and  to  regard  every  ob- 
ject as  contemptible,  except  the  improvement  of  my 
talents  in  literature."  The  first  book  he  published  was 
a  complete  failure.  But  he  went  on  again ;  composed 
and  published  another  book,  which  was  a  success.  But 
he  made  no  money  by  it.  He  became  secretary  to  the 
military  embassy  at  Vienna  and  Turin,  and  at  thirty- 
six  he  thought  himself  rich.  These  are  his  own  words: 
"My  appointments,  with  my  frugality,  had  made  me 
reach  a  fortune  which  I  called  independent,  though 
most  of  my  friends  were  inclined  to  smile  when  I  said 
so:  in  short,  I  was  now  master  of  near  a  tliousand 


84  Eev.  Robert  Walker.  [CHAP.  V. 

pounds."  Every  one  knows  that  a  thousand  pounds, 
at  five  per  cent.,  means  fifty  pounds  a  year;  and  Hume 
considered  himself  independent  with  that  income.  His 
friend  Adam  Smitli  said  of  him, "  Even  in  the  lowest 
state  of  his  fortune,  his  great  and  necessary  frugality 
never  hindered  him  from  exercising,  upon  proper  oc- 
casions, acts  both  of  charity  and  generosity.  It  was  a 
frugality  founded  not  on  avarice,  but  upon  the  love  of 
independency." 

But  one  of  the  most  remarkable  illustrations  of 
Thrift  is  to  be  found  in  the  history  of  the  Rev.  Robert 
Walker — the  Wonderful  Robert  Walker,  as  he  is  still 
called  in  the  district  of  Cumberland  where  he  resided. 
He  was  curate  of  Leathwaite  during  the  greater  part 
of  last  century.  The  income  of  the  curacy,  at  the  time 
of  his  appointment  (1735),  was  only  five  pounds  a  year. 
His  wife  brought  him  a  fortune  of  forty  pounds.  Is 
it  possible  that  he  could  contrive  to  live  upon  his  five 
pounds  a  year,  the  interest  of  his  wife's  fortune,  and  the 
result  of  his  labors  as  a  clergyman  ?  Yes,  he  contrived 
to  do  all  this ;  and  he  not  only  lived  w^ell,  though  plain- 
ly, but  he  saved  money,  which  he  left  for  the  benefit  of 
his  family.  He  accomplished  all  this  by  means  of  in- 
dustry, frugality,  and  temperance. 

First,  about  his  industry.  He  thoroughly  did  the 
work  connected  with  his  curacy.  The  Sabbath  was 
in  all  respects  regarded  by  him  as  a  holy  day.  After 
morning  and  evening  service,  he  devoted  the  evening 
to  reading  the  Scriptures  and  family  prayer.  On  week- 
days he  taught  the  children  of  the  parish,  charging 
nothing  for  the  education,  but  only  taking  so  much  as 
the  people  chose  to  give  him.  The  parish  church  was 
his  school;  and  while  the  children  were  repeating  their 
lessons  by  his  side,  he  was,  like  Shenstone's  school-mis- 
tress, engaged  in  spinning  wool.  He  had  the  right  of 
pasturage  upon  the  mountains  for  a  few  sheep  and  a 


CHAP.  V.  Sis  Character.  85 

couple  of  cows,  which  required  his  attendance.  With 
this  pastoral  occupation  he  joined  the  labors  of  hus- 
bandry, for  he  rented  two  or  three  acres  of  land  in  ad- 
dition to  his  own  acre  of  glebe,  and  he  also  possessed 
a  garden — the  whole  of  which  was  tilled  by  his  own 
hand.  The  fuel  of  the  liouse  consisted  of  peat,  pro- 
cured by  his  labor  from  the  neighboring  mosses.  He 
also  assisted  his  parishioners  in  hay-making  and  shear- 
ing their  flocks,  in  which  latter  art  he  was  eminently 
dexterous.  In  return,  the  neighbors  would  present  him 
with  a  hay-cock,  or  a  fleece,  as  a  general  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  services. 

After  officiating  as  curate  of  Leathwaite  for  about 
twenty  years,  the  annual  value  of  the  living  was  in- 
creased to  seventeen  pounds  ten  shillings.  His  char- 
acter being  already  well  known  and  highly  apprecia- 
ted, the  Bishop  of  Carlisle  ofl*ered  Mr.  Walker  the  ap- 
pointment of  the  adjoining  curacy  of  Ulpha;  but  he 
conscientiously  refused  it,  on  the  ground  that  the  an- 
nexation "  would  be  apt  to  cause  a  general  discontent 
among  the  inhabitants  of  both  places,  by  either  think- 
ing themselves  slighted,  being  only  served  alternately, 
or  neglected  in  the  duty,  or  attributing  it  to  covetous- 
ness  in  me ;  all  which  occasions  of  murmuring  I  would 
willingly  avoid."  Yet  at  this  time  Mr.  Walker  had  a 
family  of  eight  children.  He  afterward  maintained 
one  of  his  sons  at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  until  he  was 
ready  for  taking  holy  orders. 

The  parish  pastor  was,  of  course,  a  most  economical 
man.  Yet  no  act  of  his  life  savored  in  the  least  degree 
of  meanness  or  avarice.  On  the  other  hand,  his  con- 
duct throughout  life  displayed  the  greatest  disinterest- 
edness and  generosity.  He  knew  very  little  of  luxu- 
ries, and  he  cared  less.  Tea  was  only  used  in  his  house 
for  visitors.  The  family  used  milk,  which  was  indeed 
far  better.     Excepting  milk,  the  only  other  drink  used 


86  Self-apinlicaiion.  [CHAP.  v. 

in  the  house  was  water — clear  water  drawn  from  the 
mountain  spring.  The  clothing  of  the  family  was 
comely  and  decent,  but  it  was  all  home-made :  it  was 
simple,  like  their  diet.  Occasionally  one  of  the  mount- 
ain sheep  was  killed  for  purposes  of  food;  and  toward 
the  end  of  the  year,  a  cow  was  killed  and  salted  down 
for  provision  during  winter.  The  hide  was  tanned, 
and  the  leather  furnished  shoes  for  the  family.  By 
these  and  other  means  this  venerable  clergyman  rear- 
ed his  numerous  family ;  not  only  preserving  them,  as 
he  so  affectingly  says,  "from  wanting  the  necessaries 
of  life,"  but  aftbrding  them  "  an  unstinted  education, 
and  the  means  of  raising  themselves  in  society."^ 

Many  men,  in  order  to  advance  themselves  in  the 
world  and  to  raise  themselves  in  society,  have  "  scorned 
delights  and  lived  laborious  days."  They  have  lived 
humbly  and  frugally,  in  order  to  accomplish  greater 
things.  They  have  supported  themselves  by  their  hand- 
labor,  until  they  could  support  themselves  by  their 
head-labor.  Some  may  allege  that  this  is  not  justifia- 
ble ;  that  it  is  a  sin  against  the  proletariat  to  attempt 
to  rise  in  the  world ;  that  "  once  a  cobbler  always  a 
cobbler."  But,  until  a  better  system  has  been  estab- 
lished, the  self-application  of  individuals  is  the  only 
method  by  which  science  and  knowledge  can  be  con- 
quered, and  the  world  permanently  advanced. 

Goethe  says,  "  It  is  perfectly  indifferent  within  what 
circle  an  honest  man  acts,  provided  he  do  but  know 
how  to  understand  and  completely  fill  out  that  circle  ;" 
and  again,  "An  honest  and  vigorous  will  could  make 
itself  a  path  and  employ  its  activity  to  advantage  un- 
der every  form  of  society."     "  What  is  the  best  gov- 

*  The  best  account  of  Mr.  "Walker  is  to  be  found  in  the  appendix 
to  the  poems  of  Wordsworth.  The  poet  greatly  appreciated  the  cler- 
gyman's character,  and  noticed  him  in  his  "Excursion,"  as  well  as  in 
the  notes  to  the  sonnet  entitled  "The  River  Duddon." 


CHAP.  Y.]  Distinguished  Miiiei'S.  87 

eminent?"  he  asks:  "That  which  teaches  us  to  ofovern 
ourselves."  All  that  we  need,  in  his  opinion,  is  individ- 
ual liberty  and  self-culture.  "  Let  every  one,"  he  says, 
"only  do  the  right  in  his  place,  without  troubling  him- 
self about  the  turmoil  of  the  world." 

At  all  events,  it  is  not  by  socialism,  but  by  indi- 
vidualism, that  any  thing  has  been  done  toward  the 
achievement  of  knowledge  and  the  advancement  of 
society.  It  is  the  will  and  determination  of  individual 
men  that  impel  the  world  forward  in  art,  in  science, 
and  in  all  the  means  and  methods  of  civilization. 

Individual  men  are  willing  to  deny  tliemselves,  but 
associated  communities  will  not.  The  masses  are  too 
selfish,  and  fear  that  advantage  will  be  taken  of  any 
sacrifices  Avhich  they  may  be  called  ujjon  to  make. 
Hence  it  is  among  the  noble  band  of  resolute  spirits 
that  we  look  for  those  who  raise  and  elevate  the  world 
as  well  as  themselves.  The  recollection  of  what  they 
have  done  acts  as  a  stimulus  to  others.  It  braces  the 
mind  of  man,  reanimates  his  will,  and  encourages  him 
to  further  exertions. 

When  Lord  Elcho  addressed  the  East  Lothian  coll- 
iers, he  named  several  men  who  had  raised  themselves 
from  the  coal-pit;  and,  first  of  all,  he  referred  to  Mr. 
Macdonald,  member  for  Stafford.  "  The  beginning  of 
my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Macdonald,"  he  said,  "  was 
when  I  was  told  that  a  miner  wanted  to  see  me  in  the 
lobby  of  the  House  of  Commons.  I  went  out  and  saw 
Mr.  Macdonald,  who  gave  me  a  petition  from  this  dis- 
trict, which  he  asked  me  to  present.  I  entered  into 
conversation  with  him,  and  was  much  struck  by  liis 
intelligence.  lie  told  me  that  he  had  begun  life  as  a 
boy  in  the  pit  in  Lanarkshire,  and  that  the  money  he 
saved  as  a  youth  in  the  summer  he  spent  at  Glasgow 
University  in  the  winter;  and  that  is  wliere  he  got 
whatever  book-learning  or  power  of  writing  lie  pos- 


88  George  Stephenson.  [chap.  v. 

sesses.  I  say  that  is  an  instance  that  does  honor  to 
the  miners  of  Scotland.  Another  instance  was  that  of 
Dr.  Hogg,  who  began  as  a  pitman  in  this  country; 
w^orked  in  the  morning,  attended  school  in  the  after- 
noon; then  went  to  the  university  for  four  years,  and 
to  the  Theological  Hall  for  five  years ;  and  afterward, 
in  consequence  of  his  health  failing,  he  went  abroad, 
and  is  now  engaged  as  a  missionary  in  Upper  Egypt. 
Or  take  the  case  of  Mr.  (now  Sir  George)  Elliot,  mem- 
ber for  North  Durham,  who  has  spoken  np  for  the 
miners  all  the  better  for  having  had  practical  knowl- 
edge of  their  work.  He  began  as  a  miner  in  the  pit, 
and  he  worked  his  way  uj)  till  he  has  in  his  employ- 
ment many  thousand  men.  He  has  risen  to  his  great 
w^ealth  and  station  from  the  humblest  position ;  as  ev- 
ery man  who  now  hears  me  is  capable  of  doing,  to  a 
greater  or  less  degree,  if  he  will  only  be  thrifty  and 
industrious." 

Lord  Elcho  might  also  have  mentioned  Dr.  Hutton, 
the  geologist,  a  man  of  a  much  higher  order  of  genius, 
who  was  the  son  of  a  coal-viewer.  Bewick,  the  first 
wood-engraver,  is  also  said  to  have  been  the  son  of  a 
coal-miner.  Dr.  Campbell  was  the  son  of  a  Loanhead 
collier:  he  was  the  forerunner  of  Mofiat  and  Living- 
stone, in  their  missionary  journeys  among  the  Bechu- 
anas  in  South  Africa.  Allan  Ramsay,  the  poet,  was 
also  the  son  of  a  miner. 

George  Stephenson  worked  his  way  from  the  pit- 
head to  the  highest  position  as  an  engineer.  George 
began  his  life  with  industry,  and  when  he  had  saved  a 
little  money,  he  spent  it  in  getting  a  little  learning. 
What  a  happy  man  he  was  when  his  wages  were  in- 
creased to  twelve  shillings  a  week !  He  declared  upon 
that  occasion  that  he  was  "  a  made  man  for  life  !"  He 
was  not  only  enabled  to  maintain  himself  npon  his 
earnings,  but  to  help  his  poor  parents,  and  to  pay  for 


CHAP,  v.]  James  Watt  89 

his  own  education.  When  his  skill  had  increased,  and 
his  wages  were  advanced  to  a  pound  a  week,  he  imme- 
diately began,  like  a  thoughtful,  intelligent  workman, 
to  lay  by  his  surplus  money ;  and  when  he  had  saved 
liis  first  guinea,  he  proudly  declared  to  one  of  his  col- 
leagues that  he  "  was  now  a  rich  man  !" 

And  he  was  right.  For  the  man  who,  after  satisfy- 
ing his  wants,  has  something  to  spare,  is  no  longer 
poor.  It  is  certain  that  from  that  day  Stephenson 
never  looked  back;  his  advance  as  a  self- improving 
man  was  as  steady  as  the  light  of  sunrise.  A  person 
of  large  experience  has  indeed  stated  that  he  never 
knew,  among  w^orking- people,  a  single  instance  of  a 
man  having  out  of  his  small  earnings  laid  by  a  pound 
who  had  in  the  end  become  a  pauper. 

When  Stephenson  proposed  to  erect  his  first  loco- 
motive, he  had  not  sufticient  means  to  defray  its  cost. 
But  in  the  course  of  his  life  as  a  workman  he  had 
established  a  character.  He  was  trusted.  He  was 
faithful.  He  was  a  man  who  could  be  depended  on. 
Accordingly,  when  the  Earl  of  Ravens  worth  was  in- 
formed of  Stephenson's  desire  to  erect  a  locomotive, 
he  at  once  furnished  him  with  the  means  for  enabling 
him  to  carry  his  wishes  into  effect. 

AVatt  also,  when  inventing  the  condensing  steam- 
engine,  maintained  himself  by  making  and  selling 
mathematical  instruments.  He  made  flutes,  organs, 
compasses — any  thing  that  would  maintain  him,  until 
he  had  completed  his  invention.  At  the  same  time  he 
was  perfecting  his  own  education  —  learning  French, 
German,  mathematics,  and  the  principles  of  natural 
philosophy.  This  lasted  for  many  years;  and  by  the 
time  that  Watt  developed  his  steam-engine  and  dis- 
covered Mathew  Boulton,  he  had,  by  his  own  efforts, 
become  an  accomplished  and  scientific  man. 

These  great  workers  did  not  feel  ashamed  of  labor- 


90  WorMng  for  Independence.         [chap.  v. 

ing  with  their  hands  for  a  living ;  but  they  also  felt 
within  themselves  the  power  of  doing  head-work  as 
well  as  hand -work.  And  while  thus  laboring  with 
their  hands,  they  went  on  with  their  inventions,  the 
perfecting  of  which  has  proved  of  so  much  advantage 
to  the  world.  Hugh  Miller  furnished,  in  his  own  life, 
an  excellent  instance  of  that  practical  common  sense 
in  the  business  of  life  which  he  so  strongly  recom- 
mended to  others.  When  he  began  to  write  poetry, 
and  felt  within  him  the  growing  powers  of  a  literary 
man,  he  diligently  continued  his  labor  as  a  stone- 
cutter. 

Horace  Walpole  has  said  that  Queen  Caroline's  pat- 
ronage of  Stephen  Duck,  the  thresher -poet,  ruined 
twenty  men,  who  all  turned  poets.  It  was  not  so  with 
the  early  success  of  Hugh  Miller.  "  There  is  no  more 
fatal  error,"  he  says,  "  into  which  a  Avorking-man  of  a 
literary  turn  can  fall  than  the  mistake  of  deeming  him- 
self too  good  for  his  humble  employments,  and  yet  it 
is  a  mistake  as  common  as  it  is  fatal.  I  had  already 
seen  several  poor  wrecked  mechanics,  who,  believing 
themselves  to  be  poets,  and  regarding  the  manual  oc- 
cupation by  which  they  could  alone  live  in  independ- 
ence as  beneath  them,  had  become  in  consequence  lit- 
tle better  than  mendicants — too  good  to  work  for  their 
bread,  but  not  too  good  virtually  to  beg  it ;  and,  look- 
ing npon  them  as  beacons  of  warning,  I  determined 
that,  Avith  God's  help,  I  should  give  their  error  a  wide 
offing,  and  never  associate  the  idea  of  meanness  with 
an  honest  calling,  or  deem  myself  too  good  to  be  inde- 
pendent." 

At  the  same  time,  a  man  who  feels  that  he  has  some 
good  work  in  him,  which  study  and  labor  might  yet 
bring  out,  is  fully  justified  in  denying  himself,  and  in 
applying  his  energies  to  the  culture  of  his  intellect. 
And  it  is  astonishing  how  much  carefulness,  thrift,  the 


CHAP,  v.]         Working  for  Higher  Things.  91 

reading  of  books,  and  diligent  application,  will  help 
such  men  onward. 

The  author  in  his  boyhood  knew  three  men  who 
worked  in  an  agricultural -implement -maker's  shop. 
They  worked  in  wood  and  iron,  and  made  carts,  plows, 
harrows,  drilling  -  machines,  and  such  -  like  articles. 
Somehow  or  other,  the  idea  got  into  their  heads  that 
they  might  be  able  to  do  something  better  than  mak- 
ing carts  and  harrows.  They  did  not  despise  the  lot 
of  hand-labor,  but  they  desired  to  use  it  as  a  step  to- 
ward somethincc  better.  Their  wagjes  at  that  time 
could  not  have  exceeded  from  eighteen  to  twenty  shil- 
lings a  week. 

Two  of  the  young  men,  who  worked  at  the  same 
bench,  contrived  to  save  enough  money  to  enable  them 
to  attend  college  during  the  winter.  At  the  end  of 
each  session  they  went  back  to  their  hand-labor,  and 
earned  enough  wages  during  the  summer  to  enable 
them  to  return  to  their  classes  during  the  winter. 
The  third  did  not  adopt  this  course.  He  joined  a  me- 
chanics' institute  which  had  just  been  started  in  the 
town  in  which  he  lived.  By  attending  the  lectures 
and  reading  the  books  in  the  library,  he  acquired  some 
knowledge  of  chemistry'-,  of  the  principles  of  mechanics, 
and  of  natural  philosophy.  He  applied  himself  close- 
ly, studied  hard  in  his  evening  hours,  and  became  an 
accomplished  man. 

It  is  hot  necessary  to  trace  their  history ;  but  what 
they  eventually  arrived  at  may  be  mentioned.  Of  the 
first  two,  one  became  the  teacher  and  proprietor  of  a 
large  public  school;  the  other  became  a  well-known 
dissenting  minister;  while  the  third,  working  his  way 
strenuously  and  bravely,  became  the  principal  engineer 
and  manager  of  the  largest  steamship  company  in  the 
world. 

Although  mechanics'  institutes  are  old  institutions, 


92  Work  and  Culture.  [chap.  v. 

they  have  scarcely  been  supported  by  working-men. 
The  public-house  is  more  attractive  and  more  frequent- 
ed. And  yet  mechanics'  institutes,  even  though  they 
are  scarcely  known  south  of  Yorkshire  and  Lancashire, 
have  been  the  means  of  doing  a  great  deal  of  good. 
By  placing  sound  mechanical  knowledge  within  the 
reach  of  even  the  few  persons  who  have  been  disposed 
to  take  advantage  of  them,  they  have  elevated  many 
persons  into  positions  of  great  social  influence.  We 
have  heard  a  distinguished  man  say,  publicly,  that  a 
mechanics'  institution  had  made  him/  that  but  for  the 
access  which  it  had  afforded  him  to  knowledge  of  all 
kinds,  he  would  have  occupied  a  very  different  position. 
In  short,  the  mechanics'  institution  had  elevated  him 
from  the  position  of  a  licensed  victualer  to  that  of  an 
engineer. 

We  have  referred  to  the  wise  practice  of  men  in 
humble  position  maintaining  themselves  by  their  trade 
until  they  saw  a  way  toward  maintaining  themselves 
by  a  higher  calling.  Thus  Herschel  maintained  him- 
self by  music,  while  pursuing  his  discoveries  in  astron- 
omy. When  playing  the  oboe  in  the  pump-room  at 
Bath,  he  would  retire  while  the  dancers  were  lounging 
round  the  room,  go  out  and  take  a  peep  at  the  heav- 
ens through  his  telescope,  and  quietly  return  to  his  in- 
strument. It  was  while  he  was  thus  maintaining  him- 
self by  music  that  he  discovered  the  Georgium  Sidus. 
When  the  Royal  Society  recognized  his  discovery,  the 
oboe-player  suddenly  found  himself  famous. 

Franklin  long  maintained  himself  by  his  trade  of 
printing.  lie  was  a  hard-working  man — thrifty,  frugal, 
and  a  great  saver  of  time.  He  worked  for  character 
as  much  as  for  wages;  and  when  it  was  found  that  he 
could  be  relied  on,  he  prospered.  At  length  he  was 
publicly  recognized  as  a  great  statesman,  and  as  one 
of  the  most  scientific  men  of  his  time. 


CHAP,  v.]  Samuel  liichardson.  93 

Ferguson,  the  astronomer,  lived  by  portrait-painting, 
until  his  merits  as  a  scientific  man  were  recognized. 
John  DoUond  maintained  himself  as  a  silk-weaver  in 
Spitalfields.  In  the  course  of  his  studies  he  made  great 
improvements  in  the  refracting  telescope ;  and  the  ach- 
romatic telescope,  which  he  invented,  gave  him  a  high 
rank  among  the  ^philosophers  of  his  age.  But  during 
the  greater  part  of  his  life,  while  he  was  carrying  on 
his  investigations,  he  continued,  until  the  age  of  forty- 
six,  to  carry  on  his  original  trade.  At  length  he  con- 
fined himself  entirely  to  making  telescopes,. and  then  he 
gave  up  his  trade  of  a  silk-weaver. 

"Winckelman,  the  distinguished  writer  on  classical 
antiquities  and  the  fine  arts,  was  the  son  of  a  shoe- 
maker. His  father  endeavored,  as  long  as  he  could,  to 
give  his  boy  a  learned  education  ;  but,  becoming  ill  and 
worn  out,  he  had  eventually  to  retire  to  the  hospital. 
Winckelman  and  his  father  were  once  accustomed  to 
sino:  at  nicrht  in  the  streets  to  raise  fees  to  enable  the 
boy  to  attend  the  grammar  school.  The  younger 
Winckelman  then  undertook,  by  hard  labor,  to  support 
his  father;  and  afterward,  by  means  of  teaching,  to 
keep  himself  at  college.  Every  one  knows  how  distin- 
guished he  eventually  became. 

Samuel  Richardson,  while  writing  his  novels,  stuck 
to  his  trade  of  a  book-seller.  He  sold  his  books  in  the 
front  shop,  while  he  wrote  them  in  the  back.  He 
would  not  give  himself  up  to  authorship,  because  he 
loved  his  independence.  "  You  know,"  he  said  to  liis 
friend  Dcfreval, "  how  my  business  engages  me.  You 
know  by  what  snatches  of  time  I  write,  that  I  may  not 
neglect  that,  and  that  I  may  preserve  that  independen- 
cy which  is  the  comfort  of  my  life.  I  never  sought  out 
of  myself  for  patrons.  My  own  industry  and  God's 
providence  have  been  my  whole  reliance.  The.  great 
are  not  great  to  me  unless  they  are  good.     And  it  is  a 


94:  Results  of  Application.  [chap.  v. 

glorious  privilege  that  a  middling  man  enjoys,  Avho 
has  preserved  his  independency,  and  can  occasionally 
(though  not  stoically)  tell  the  world  what  he  thinks  of 
that  world,  in  hopes  to  contribute,  though  by  his  mite, 
to  mend  it." 

The  late  Dr.  Olinthus  Gregory,  in  addressing  the 
Deptford  Mechanics'  Institution  at  their  first  anniver- 
sary, took  the  opportunity  of  mentioning  various  men 
in  humble  circumstances  (some  of  whom  he  had  been 
able  to  assist),  who,  by  means  of  energy,  application, 
and  self-denial,  had  been  able  to  accomplish  great  things 
in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge.  Thus  he  described 
the  case  of  a  laborer  on  the  turnpike-road,  who  had  be- 
come an  able  Greek  scholar ;  of  a  fifer  and  a  private 
soldier  in  a  regiment  of  militia,  both  self-taught  mathe- 
maticians, one  of  whom  became  a  successful  school-mas- 
ter, the  other  a  lecturer  on  natural  philosophy;  of  a 
journeyman  tin-plate  worker,  who  invented  rules  for 
the  solution  of  cubic  equations;  of  a  country  sexton, 
who  became  a  teacher  of  music,  and  who,  by  his  love 
of  the  study  of  musical  science,  was  transformed  from 
a  drunken  sot  to  an  exemplary  husband  and  father;  of 
a  coal-miner  (a  corresi^ondent  of  Dr.  Gregory's),  who 
was  an  able  writer  on  topics  of  the  higher  mathemat- 
ics ;  of  another  correspondent,  a  laboring  white-smith, 
who  was  also  well  acquainted  with  the  course  of  pure 
mathematics,  as  taught  at  Cambridge,  Dublin,  and  the 
military  colleges ;  of  a  tailor,  who  was  an  excellent  ge- 
ometrician, and  had  discovered  curves  which  escaped 
the  notice  of  Newton,  and  who  labored  industriously 
and  contentedly  at  his  trade  until  sixty  years  of  age, 
when,  by  the  recommendation  of  his  scientific  friends, 
he  was  appointed  nautical  examiner  at  the  Trinity 
House;  of  a  plowman  in  Lincolnshire,  who,  without  aid 
of  men  or  books,  discovered  the  rotation  of  the  earth, 
the  principles  of  spherical  astronomy,  and  invented  a 


CHAP,  v.]  Distinguished  Artists.  95 

planetary  system  akin  to  the  Tychonic ;  of  a  country 
shoe -maker,  who  became  distinguished  as  one  of  the 
ablest  metaphysical  writers  in  Britain,  and  who,  at 
more  than  fifty  years  of  age,  was  removed,  by  the  in- 
fluence of  his  talents  and  his  worth,  from  his  native 
county  to  London,  where  he  was  employed  to  edit 
some  useful  publications  devoted  to  the  diffusion  of 
knowledge  and  the  best  interests  of  mankind. 

Students  of  art  have  had  to  practice  self-denial  in 
many  ways.  Quentin  Matsys,  having  fallen  in  love 
with  a  painter's  daughter,  determined  to  win  her. 
Though  but  a  blacksmith  and  a  farrier,  he  studied  art 
so  diligently,  and  acquired  so  much  distinction,  that 
his  mistress  afterward  accepted  the  painter  whom  she 
had  before  rejected  as  the  blacksmith.  Flaxman,  how- 
ever, married  his  wife  before  he  had  acquired  any  dis- 
tinction whatever  as  an  artist.  He  was  merely  a  skill- 
ful and  promising  pupil.  When  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds 
heard  of  his  marriage,  he  exclaimed,  "Flaxman  is  ruin- 
ed for  an  artist !"  But  it  was  not  so.  "When  Flax- 
man's  wife  heard  of  the  remark,  she  said,  "  Let  us  work 
and  economize.  I  will  never  have  it  said  that  Ann 
Denham  ruined  John  Flaxman  as  an  artist."  They 
economized  accordingly.  To  earn  money,  Flaxman 
undertook  to  collect  the  local  rates ;  and  what  with 
art  and  industry,  the  patient,  hard-working,  thrifty 
couple,  after  five  years  of  careful  saving,  set  out  for 
Rome  together.  There  Flaxman  studied  and  worked ; 
there  he  improved  his  knowlege  of  art ;  and  there  he 
acquired  the  reputation  of  being  the  first  of  English 
sculptors. 

The  greater  number  of  artists  have  sprung  from 
humble  life.  If  they  had  been  born  rich,  they  Avould 
probably  never  have  been  artists.  They  have  liad  to 
work  their  way  from  one  position  to  another ;  and 
to  strengthen  their  nature  by  conquering  difficulty. 


96  Canova  and  Lough.  [chap.  v. 

Hogarth  began  his  career  by  engraving  shop-bills. 
William  Sharp  began  by  engraving  door-plates.  Tassie, 
the  sculptor  and  medalist,  began  life  as  a  stone-cutter. 
Having  accidentally  seen  a  collection  of  pictures,  he 
aspired  to  become  an  artist,  and  entered  an  academy 
to  learn  the  elements  of  drawing.  He  continued  to 
work  at  his  old  trade  until  he  was  able  to  maintain 
himself  by  his  new  one.  He  used  his  labor  as  the 
means  of  cultivating  his  skill  in  his  more  refined  and 
elevated  profession. 

Chantrey,  of  Sheffield,  w^as  an  economist  both  of  time 
and  money.  He  saved  fifty  pounds  out  of  his  earnings 
as  a  carver  and  gilder,  paid  the  money  to  his  master, 
and  canceled  his  indentures.  Then  he  came  up  to  Lon- 
don, and  found  employment  as  a  journeyman  carver ; 
he  proceeded  to  paint  portraits  and  model  busts,  and 
at  length  worked  his  way  to  the  first  position  as  a 
sculptor. 

Canova  was  a  stone-cutter,  like  his  father  and  his 
grandfather;  and  through  stone-cutting  he  worked  his 
way  to  sculpture.  After  leaving  the  quarr}^,  he  went  to 
Venice,  and  gave  his  services  to  an  artist,  from  whom 
he  received  but  little  recompense  for  his  work.  "I  la- 
bored," said  he,  "for  a  mere  pittance,  but  it  was  suffi- 
cient. It  was  the  fruit  of  my  own  resolution,  and,  as 
I  then  flattered  myself,  the  foretaste  of  more  honorable 
rewards;  for  I  never  thought  of  wealth."  He  pursued 
his  studies — in  drawing  and  modeling;  in  languages, 
poetry,  history,  antiquity,  and  the  Greek  and  Roman 
classics.  A  long  time  elapsed  before  his  talents  w^ere 
recognized,  and  then  he  suddenly  became  famous. 

Lough,  the  English  sculptor,  is  another  instance  of 
self-denial  and  hard  work.  When  a  boy,  he  was  fond 
of  drawing.  At  school  he  made  drawings  of  horses, 
dogs,  cows,  and  men,  for  pins :  that  was  his  first  pay, 
and  he  used  to  go  home  with  his  jacket-sleeve  stuck 


CHAP,  v.]  John  Lough.  97 

full  of  them.  He  and  his  brother  next  made  figures  in 
clay.  Pope's  Homer  lay  on  his  father's  window.  The 
boys  were  so  delighted  with  it  that  they  made  thou- 
sands of  models — one  taking  the  Greeks,  and  the  oth- 
er the  Trojans.  An  odd  volume  of  Gibbon  gave  an  ac- 
count of  the  Coliseum.  After  the  family  were  in  bed, 
the  brothers  made  a  model  of  the  Coliseum,  and  filled 
it  with  fighting  gladiators.  As  the  boys  grew  up  they 
were  sent  to  their  usual  outdoor  work,  following  the 
plow,  and  doing  the  usual  agricultural  labor;  but  still 
adhering  to  their  modeling  at  leisure  hours.  At  Christ- 
raas-time  Lough  was  very  much  in  demand.  Every 
body  wanted  him  to  make  models  in  pastry  for  Christ- 
mas pies  —  the  neighboring  farmers  especially.  "It 
Avas  capital  practice,"  he  afterward  said. 

At  length  Lough  went  from  Newcastle  to  London, 
to  push  his  way  in  the  world  of  art.  He  obtained  a 
passage  in  a  collier,  the  skipper  of  which  he  knew. 
When  he  reached  London,  he  slept  on  board  the  coll- 
ier as  long  as  it  remained  in  the  Thames.  He  was  so 
great  a  favorite  with  the  men,  that  they  all  urged  him 
to  go  back.  He  had  no  friends,  no  patronage,  no  mon- 
ey !  What  could  he  do  with  every  thing  against  him? 
But,  having  already  gone  so  far,  he  determined  to  pro- 
ceed. He  would  not  go  back — at  least,  not  yet.  The 
men  all  wept  when  he  took  farewell  of  them.  He  was 
alone  in  London,  alone  under  the  shadow  of  St.  Paul's. 

His  next  step  was  to  take  a  lodging  in  an  obscure 
first  floor  in  Burleigh  Street,  over  a  green -grocer's 
shop ;  and  there  he  began  to  model  his  grand  statue  of 
*']Milo."  He  had  to  take  the  roof  off  to  let  Milo's  head 
out.  There  Haydon  found  him,  and  was  delighted 
with  his  genius.  "  I  went,"  he  says,  "  to  young  Lough, 
the  sculptor,  who  has  just  burst  out,  and  has  produced 
a  great  effect.  His  "Milo"  is  really  the  most  extraor- 
dinary thing,  considering  all  the  circumstances,  in  mod- 

5 


98  Lough's  Success.  [CHAP.  V. 

ern  sculpture.  It  is  another  proof  of  the  efficacy  of 
inherent  genius."*  That  Lough  must  have  been  poor 
enough  at  this  time,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that,  dur- 
in<^  the  execution  of  his  "Milo,"  he  did  not  eat  meat  for 
three  months ;  and  when  Peter  Coxe  found  him  out,  he 
was  tearing  up  his  shirt  to  make  wet  rags  for  his  fig^ 
ure,  to  keep  the  clay  moist.  He  had  a  bushel  and  a 
half  of  coals  during  the  whole  winter ;  and  he  used  to 
lie  down  by  the  side  of  his  clay  model  of  the  immortal 
figure,  damp  as  it  was,  and  shiver  for  hours  till  he  fell 
asleep. 

Chantrey  once  said  to  Haydon,  "  When  I  have  made 
money  enough,!  will  devote  myself  to  high  art."  But 
busts  engrossed  Chantrey's  time.  He  was  munificent- 
ly paid  for  them,  and  never  raised  himself  above  the 
money-making  part  of  his  profession.  When  Haydon 
next  saw  Chantrey  at  Brighton,  he  said  to  him,  "  Here 
is  a  young  man  from  the  country,  who  has  come  to 
London;  and  he  is  doing  precisely  what  you  have  so 
long  been  dreaming  of  doing." 

The  exhibition  of  "Milo"  was  a  great  success.  The 
Duke  of  Wellington  went  to  see  it,  and  ordered  a 
statue.  Sir  Matthew  White  Ridley  was  much  struck 
by  the  genius  of  young  Lough,  and  became  one  of  his 
greatest  patrons.  The  sculptor  determined  to  strike 
out  a  new  path  for  himself.  He  thought  the  Greeks 
had  exhausted  the  Pantheistic,  and  that  heathen  gods 
had  been  overdone.  Lough  began  and  pursued  the 
study  of  lyric  sculpture :  he  would  illustrate  the  great 
English  poets.  But  there  was  the  obvious  difficulty 
of  telling  the  story  of  a  figure  by  a  single  attitude.  It 
was  like  a  flash  of  thought.  "  The  true  artist,"  he  said, 
"must  plant  his  feet  firmly  on  the  earth,  and  sweep 
the  heavens  with  his  pencil.     I  mean,"  he  added,  "  that 


*  Hay  don's  "Autobiography,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  155. 


CHAP,  v.]  Words  of  Lord  Derby.  99 


the  soul  must  be  combined  with  the  body,  the  ideal 
with  the  real,  the  heavens  with  the  earth." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  describe  the  success  of  Mr. 
Lough  as  a  sculptor.  His  statue  of  "  The  Mourners  " 
is  known  all  over  the  world.  He  has  ilhistrated 
Shakspeare  and  IMilton.  His  "  Puck,"  "  Titania,"  and 
other  great  works,  are  extensively  known,  and  their 
genius  universally  admired.  But  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  his  noble  statue  of  "  Milo  "  was  not  cast  in  bronze 
until  1862,  when  it  was  exhibited  at  tlie  International 
Exhibition  of  that  year. 

The  Earl  of  Derby,  in  recently  distributing  the 
prizes  to  the  successful  pupils  of  the  Liverpool  Col- 
lege,* made  the  following  observations ; 

"The  vast  majority  of  men,  in  all  ages  and  countries, 
must  work  before  they  can  eat.  Even  tliose  who  are 
not  under  the  necessity,  are,  in  England,  generally  im- 
pelled by  example,  by  custom,  perhaps  by  a  sense  of 
what  is  fitted  for  them,  to  adopt  what  is  called  an 

active  pursuit  of  some  sort If  there  is  one  thing 

more  certain  than  another,  it  is  this — that  every  mem- 
ber of  a  community  is  bound  to  do  something  for  that 
community,  in  return  for  what  he  gets  from  it ;  and 
neither  intellectual  cultivation,  nor  the  possession  of 
material  wealth,  nor  any  other  plea  whatever,  except 
that  of  physical  or  mental  incapacity,  can  excuse  any 

of  us  from  that  plain   and   personal  duty And 

though  it  may  be,  in  a  community  like  this,  consider- 
ed by  some  to  be  a  heterodox  view,  I  will  say  that  it 
often  appears  to  me,  in  the  present  day,  that  we  are  a 
little  too  apt,  in  all  classes,  to  look  upon  ourselves  as 
mere  machines  for  what  is  called  'getting -on,'  and  to 
forget  that  there  are  in  every  human  being  many  fac- 


*  A  collection  ought  to  be  made  and  published  of  Lord  Derby's  ad- 
mirable "Addresses  to  Young  Men." 


100  James  Kasmyth.  [chap.  v. 

ulties  which  can  not  be  employed,  and  many  wants 
which  can  not  be  satisfied,  by  that  occupation.  I  have 
not  a  word  to  utter  against  strenuous  devotion  to  busi- 
ness while  you  are  at  it.  But  one  of  the  wisest  and 
most  thoroughly  cultivated  men  whom  I  ever  knew 
retired  before  the  age  of  fifty  from  a  profession  in 
which  he  Avas  making  an  enormous  income,  because,  he 
said,  he  had  got  as  much  as  he  or  any  one  belonging  to 
him  could  want,  and  he  did  not  see  why  he  should 
sacrifice  the  rest  of  his  life  to  money -getting.  Some 
people  thought  him  very  foolish.  I  did  not.  And  I 
believe  that  the  gentleman  of  whom  I  speak  never  once 
repented  his  decision." 

The  gentleman  to  whom  Lord  Derby  referred  was 
Mr.  Nasmyth,  the  inventor  of  the  steam-hammer.  And 
as  he  has  himself  permitted  the  story  of  his  life  to  be 
published,  there  is  no  necessity  for  concealing  his 
name.  His  life  is,  besides,  calculated  to  furnish  one  of 
the  best  illustrations  of  our  subject.  When  a  boy,  he 
was  of  a  bright,  active,  cheerful  disposition.  To  a  cer- 
tain extent  he  inherited  his  mechanical  powers  from 
his  father,  who,  besides  being  an  excellent  painter,  was 
a  thorough  mechanic.  It  was  in  his  workshop  that 
the  boy  made  his  first  acquaintance  with  tools.  He 
also  had  for  his  companion  the  son  of  an  iron-founder, 
and  he  often  went  to  the  founder's  shop  to  watch  the 
molding,  iron -melting,  casting,  forging,  pattern-mak- 
ing, and  smith's  work  that  were  going  on. 

"I  look  back,"  Mr.  Nasmyth  says,  "to  the  hours  of 
Saturday  afternoons  spent  in  having  the  run  of  the 
workshops  of  this  small  foundry  as  the  true  and  only 
apprenticeship  of  my  life.  I  did  not  trust  to  read- 
ing about  such  things.  I  saw,  handled,  and  helped 
when  I  could;  and  all  the  ideas  in  connection  with 
them  became  in  all  details,  ever  after,  permanent  in 
my  mind — to  say  nothing  of  the  no  small  acquaintance 


CHAP,  v.]  James  Kasmyth.  101 

obtained  at  the  same  time  of  the  nature  of  work- 
men." 

In  course  of  time,  young  Nasmyth,  with  the  aid  of 
his  father's  tools,  could  do  little  jobs  for  himself.  He 
made  steels  for  tinder-boxes,  which  he  sold  to  his 
school -fellows.  He  made  model  steam-engines,  and 
sectional  models,  for  use  at  popular  lectures  and  in 
schools;  and,  by  selling  such  models,  he  raised  sufficient 
money  to  enable  him  to  attend  the  lectures  on  natural 
philosophy  and  chemistry  at  the  Edinburgh  Univer- 
sity. Among  his  works  at  that  time  was  a  working 
model  of  a  steam-carriage  for  use  on  common  roads. 
It  worked  so  well  that  he  was  induced  to  make  another 
on  a  larger  scale.  After  having  been  successfully  used, 
he  sold  the  engine  for  the  purpose  of  driving  a  small 
factory. 

Xasrayth  was  now  twenty  years  old,  and  wished  to 
turn  his  practical  faculties  to  account.  His  object  was 
to  find  employment  in  one  of  the  great  engineering 
establisliments  of  the  day.  The  first,  in  his  opinion, 
was  that  of  Henry  Maudsley,  of  London.  To  attain 
his  object,  he  made  a  small  steam-engine,  every  part 
of  which  was  his  own  handiwork,  including  the  cast- 
ing and  forging.  He  proceeded  to  London ;  introduced 
himself  to  the  great  engineer ;  submitted  his  drawings ; 
showed  his  models;  and  was  finally  engaged  as  Mr. 
Maudsley's  private  workman. 

Then  came  the  question  of  wages.  Wlicn  Nasmyth 
finally  left  home  to  begin  the  world  on  his  own  ac- 
count, he  determined  not  to  cost  his  father  another 
farthing.  Being  the  youngest  of  eleven  children,  he 
thought  that  he  could  maintain  himself,  without  trench- 
ing further  upon  the  family  means.  And  he  nobly  ful- 
filled his  determination.  He  felt  that  the  wages  suffi- 
cient to  maintain  other  workmen  would  surely  be  suf- 
ficient to  maintain  him.     He  miixht  have  to  exercise 


102  James  Nasmyth.  [CHAP.  V. 

self-control  and  self-denial ;  but  of  course  he  could  do 
that.  Though  but  a  youth,  he  had  wisdom  enough, 
and  self-respect  enough,  to  deny  himself  every  thing 
that  was  unnecessary  in  order  to  preserve  the  valuable 
situation  which  he  had  obtained. 

Well,  about  the  wages.  When  Mr.  Maudsley  re- 
ferred his  young  workman  to  the  chief  cashier  as  to 
his  weekly  wages,  it  was  arranged  that  ISTasmyth  was 
to  receive  ten  shillings  a  week.  He  knew  that,  by 
strict  economy,  he  could  live  within  this  amount.  He 
contrived  a  small  cooking  apparatus,  of  which  we  pos- 
sess the  drawings.  It  is  not  necessary  to  describe  his 
method  of  cooking,  nor  his  method  of  living ;  it  is  suf- 
ficient to  say  that  his  little  cooking  apparatus  (in  which 
he  still  takes  great  pride)  enabled  him  fully  to  accom- 
plish his  purpose.  He  lived  within  his  means,  and  did 
not  cost  his  father  another  fiirthing. 

Next  year  his  wages  were  increased  to  fifteen  shil- 
lings. He  then  began  to  save  money.  He  did  not  put 
it  in  a  bank,  but  used  his  savings  for  the  purpose  of 
making  the  tools  with  which  he  afterward  commenced 
business.  In  the  third  year  of  his  service  his  wages 
were  again  increased,  on  account,  doubtless,  of  the 
value  of  his  services.  "I  don't  know,"  he  has  since 
said,  "  that  any  future  period  of  my  life  abounded  in 
such  high  enjoyment  of  existence  as  the  three  years  I 
spent  at  Maudsley's.  It  was  a  glorious  situation  for 
one  like  myself — so  earnest  as  I  was  in  all  that  related 
to  mechanism,  in  the  study  of  men  as  w^ell  as  of  ma- 
chinery. I  wish  many  a  young  man  would  do  as  I 
then  did.  I  am  sure  they  Avould  find  their  reward  in 
that  feeling  of  constant  improvement,  of  daily  advance- 
ment, and  true  independence,  which  will  ever  have  a 
charm  for  those  who  are  earnest  in  their  endeavors  to 
make  right  progress  in  life  and  in  the  regard  of  all 
good  men." 


CHAP,  v.]  Bridgeicater  Foundry.  103 

After  three  years  spent  at  Maudsley's,  Mr.  Nasmyth 
returned  to  Edinburgli  to  construct  a  small  stock  of 
enorineering  tools  suitable  for  starting  liini  in  business 
on  his  own  account.  He  hired  a  Avorkshop,  and  did 
various  engineering  jobs,  in  order  to  increase  his  little 
store  of  money  and  to  execute  his  little  stock  of  tools. 
This  occupied  him  for  two  years;  and  in  1834  he  re- 
moved the  whole  of  his  tools  and  machinery  to  Man- 
chester. He  began  business  there  in  a  very  humble 
■way,  but  it  increased  so  rapidly  that  he  was  induced 
to  remove  to  a  choice  piece  of  land  on  the  banks  of  the 
Bridge  water  Canal  at  Patricroft,  and  there  make  a  be- 
ginning— at  first  in  wooden  sheds — of  the  now  famous 
l>ridge water  Foundry. 

"  There,"  says  he,  "  I  toiled  right  heartily  until  De- 
cember 31st,  185G,  when  I  retired  to  enjoy,  in  active 
leisure,  the  result  of  many  an  anxious  and  interesting 
day.  I  had  there,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  devoted 
the  best  years  of  my  life  to  the  pursuit  of  a  business  of 
which  I  was  proud.  And  I  trust  that,  without  undue 
vanity,  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  that  I  have  left  my 
mark  upon  several  useful  inventions,  which  probably 
have  had  no  small  share  in  the  mechanical  works  of  the 
age.  There  is  scarcely  a  steamship  or  locomotive  that 
is  not  indebted  to  my  steam-hammer ;  and  without  it, 
Armstrong  and  Whitworth  guns  and  iron-plated  men- 
of-war  could  scarcely  have  existed." 

But  though  Nasmyth  retired  from  business  at  the 
ago  of  forty-eight,  he  did  not  seek  repose  in  idleness. 
He  continues  to  be  as  busy  as  the  busiest,  but  in  an 
altogether  diftorent  direction.  Instead  of  being  tied 
to  the  earth,  he  enjoys  himself  among  the  stars.  By 
means  of  telescopes  of  his  own  making,  he  lias  investi- 
gated the  sun,  and  discovered  its  "  willow  leaves ;"  he 
has  examined  and  photographed  the  moon,  and  in  the 
monograph  of  it  which  he  has  published,  he  has  made 


104  Advice  to  Young  Hen.  [CHAP.  v. 

us  fully  acquainted  "with  its  geography.  He  is  also  a 
thorough  artist,  and  spends  a  considerable  portion  of 
his  time  in  painting,  though  he  is  too  modest  to  exhibit. 
The  last  time  we  visited  liis  beautiful  home  at  Ham- 
merfield,  he  was  busy  polishing  glasses  for  one  of  his 
new  telescopes,  the  motive  power  being  a  windmill 
erected  on  one  of  his  outhouses. 

Another  word  before  we  have  done.  "  If,"  said  Na- 
smyth, "  I  were  to  try  to  compress  into  one  sentence 
the  whole  of  the  experience  I  have  had  during  an  act- 
ive and  successful  life,  and  offer  it  to  young  men  as  a 
rule  and  certain  receipt  for  success  in  any  station,  it 
Avould  be  comprised  in  these  words:  'Duty  first! 
Pleasure  secondP  From  what  I  have  seen  of  young 
men  and  their  after-progress,  I  am  satisfied  that  what 
is  generally  termed  'bad-fortune,'  'ill-luck,'  and  'mis- 
fortune,' is,  in  nine  cases  out  often,  simply  the  result  of 
inverti7ig  the  above  simple  maxim.  Such  experience 
as  I  have  had  convinces  rae  that  absence  of  success 
arises,  in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  from  want  of  self- 
denial  and  want  of  common  sense.  The  worst  of  all 
maxims  is, "  Pleasure ,/?rs^ !    Work  and  Duty  second  P  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

METHODS    OF    ECONOMY. 

"It  was  with  profound  wisdom  that  the  Romans  called  by  the  same 
name  courage  and  virtue.  There  is,  in  fact,  no  virtue,  properly  so 
called,  without  victory  over  ourselves ;  and  what  costs  us  nothing,  is 
worth  nothing." — De  Maistre. 

*'Almost  all  the  advantages  which  man  possesses  above  the  inferior 
animals  arise  from  his  power  of  acting  in  combination  with  his  fel- 
lows, and  of  accomplishing  by  the  united  efforts  of  numbers  what 
could  not  be  accomplished  by  the  detached  efforts  of  individuals." — 
J.  S.  Mill. 

*'  For  the  future,  our  main  security  will  be  in  the  wider  diffusion  of 
property,  and  in  all  such  measures  as  will  facilitate  this  result.  "With 
the  possession  of  property  will  come  conservative  instincts,  and  dis- 
inclination for  rash  and  reckless  schemes We  trust  much,  there- 
fore, to  the  rural  population  becoming  proprietors,  and  to  the  urban 
population  becoming  capitalists." — W.  R.  Greg. 

THE  methods  of  practicing  economy  are  very  simple. 
Spend  less  than  you  earn.  That  is  the  first  rule. 
A  portion  should  always  be  set  apart  for  the  future. 
The  person  who  spends  more  than  he  earns  is  a  fool. 
The  civil  law  regards  the  spendthrift  as  akin  to  the 
lunatic,  and  frequently  takes  from  him  the  management 
of  his  own  allairs. 

The  next  rule  is,  to  i:)ay  ready  money,  and  never,  on 
any  account,  to  run  into  debt.  The  person  who  runs 
into  debt  is  apt  to  get  cheated ;  and  if  he  runs  into 
debt  to  any  extent,  he  will  himself  be  apt  to  get  dis- 
lionest.     "  Who  pays  what  he  owes,  enriches  liimself " 

The  next  is,  never  to  anticipate  uncertain  profits  by 
expending  them  before  they  are  secured.  The  profits 
may  never  come,  and  in  that  case  you  will  have  taken 


106  Keeping  Regular  Accounts.         [CHAP.  VI. 

upon  yourself  a  load  of  debt  which  you  may  never  get 
rid  of.  It  will  sit  upon  your  shoulders  like  the  old 
man  in  Sindbad. 

Another  method  of  economy  is,  to  keep  a  regular 
account  of  all  that  you  earn  and  of  all  that  you  ex- 
pend. An  orderly  man  will  know  beforehand  what 
he  requires,  and  will  be  provided  with  the  necessary 
means  for  obtaining  it.  Thus  hjs  domestic  budget 
will  be  balanced,  and  his  expenditure  kept  within 
liis  income. 

John  Wesley  regularly  adopted  this  course.  Al- 
though he  possessed  a  small  income,  he  always  kept 
liis  eyes  upon  the  state  of  his  affairs.  A  year  before 
his  death,  he  wrote,  with  a  trembling  hand,  in  his 
Journal  of  Expenses:  "For  more  than  eighty-six  years 
I  have  kept  my  accounts  exactly.  I  do  not  care  to 
continue  to  do  so  any  longer,  having  the  conviction 
that  I  economize  all  that  I  obtain,  and  give  all  that  I 
can — that  is  to  say,  all  that  I  have."* 

Besides  these  methods  of  economy,  the  eye  of  the 
master  or  the  mistress  is  always  necessary  to  see  that 
nothing  is  lost,  that  every  thing  is  put  to  its  proper  use 
and  kept  in  its  proper  place,  and  that  all  things  are 
done  decently  and  in  order.  It  does  no  dishonor  to 
even  the  highest  individuals  to  take  a  personal  interest 
in  their  own  affairs.  And  with  persons  of  moderate 
means,  the  necessity  for  the  eye  of  the  master  over- 
looking every  thing,  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
proper  conduct  of  business. 

It  is  difficult  to  fix  the  precise  limits  of  economy. 
Bacon  says  that  if  a  man  would  live  well  within  his 
income,  he  ought  not  to  expend  more  than  one-half, 
and  save  the  rest.  This  is  perhaps  too  exacting ;  and 
Bacon  himself  did  not  follow  his  own  advice.     What 

*  Southey's  "Life  of  Wesley, "  vol.  ii.,  p.  560. 


CHAP.  VI.]       Generosity  and  Forethought  107 

proportion  of  one's  income  should  be  expended  on 
rent?  That  depends  upon  circumstances.  In  the 
country  about  one-tenth ;  in  London  about  one-sixth. 
It  is,  at  all  events,  better  to  save  too  much  than  spend 
too  much.  One  may  remedy  the  first  defect,  but  not 
so  easily  the  latter.  Wherever  there  is  a  large  family, 
the  more  money  that  is  put  to  one  side  and  saved,  the 
better. 

Economy  is  necessary  to  the  moderately  rich  as  well 
as  to  the  comparatively  poor  man.  Without  economy, 
a  man  can  not  be  generous.  He  can  not  take  part  in 
the  charitable  work  of  the  world.  If  he  spends  all  that 
hejearns,  he  can  help  nobody.  He  can  not  properly 
educate  his  children,  nor  put  them  in  the  way  of  start- 
ing fairly  in  the  business  of  life.  Even  the  example 
of  Bacon  shows  that  tha  loftiest  intelligence  can  not 
neglect  thrift  without  peril.  But  thousands  of  wit- 
nesses daily  testify  that  men  even  of  the  most  moder- 
ate intelligence  can  practice  the  virtue  with  success." 

Although  Englishmen  are  a  diligent,  hard-working, 
and  generally  self  reliant  race,  trusting  to  themselves 
and  their  own  eftbrts  for  their  sustenance  and  advance- 
ment in  the  world,  they  are  yet  liable  to  overlook  and 
neglect  some  of  the  best  practical  methods  of  improv- 
ing their  position  and  securing  their  social  well-being. 
They  are  not  yet  sufficiently  educated  to  be  temperate, 
provident,  and  foreseeing.  They  live  for  the  present, 
and  are  too  regardless  of  the  coming  time.  Men  who 
are  husbands  and  parents  generally  think  they  do  their 
duty  if  they  provide  for  the  hour  that  is,  neglectful  of 
the  hour  that  is  to  come.  Though  industrious,  they  are 
improvident;  though  money- making,  they  are  spend- 
thrift. They  do  not  exercise  forethought  enough,  and 
are  defective  in  the  virtue  of  prudent  economy. 

Men  of  all  classes  are,  as  yet,  too  little  influenced  by 
these  considerations.    They  are  apt  to  live  beyond  their 


108  Prudent  Economy.  [CHAP.  VI. 

incomes — at  all  events,  to  live  up  to  them.  The  upper 
classes  live  too  much  for  display ;  they  must  keep  up 
their  "  position  in  society ;"  they  must  have  fine  houses, 
horses,  and  carriages;  give  good  dinners,  and  drink 
rich  wines ;  their  ladies  must  wear  costly  and  gay 
dresses.  Thus  the  march  of  improvidence  goes  on 
over  broken  hearts,  ruined  hopes,  and  wasted  ambi- 
tions. 

The  vice  descends  in  society :  the  middle  classes 
strive  to  ape  the  patrician  orders;  they  flourish  crests,' 
liveries,  and  hammer- cloths;  their  daughters  must 
learn  "  accomplishments,"  see  "  society,"  ride  and  drive, 
frequent  operas  and  theatres.  Display  is  the  rage, 
ambition  rivaling  ambition;  and  thus  the  vicious  folly 
rolls  on  like  a  tide.  The  vice  again  descends.  The 
working -classes,  too,  live  up;  to  their  means  —  much 
smaller  means,  it  is  true ;  but  even  when  they  are  able, 
they  are  not  sufficiently  careful  to  provide  against  the 
eVil  day ;  and  then  only  the  poor-house  oflers  its  scanty 
aid  to  protect  them  against  want. 

To  save  money  for  avaricious  purposes  is  altogether 
different  from  saving  it  for  economical  purposes.  The 
saving  may  be  accomplished  in  the  same  manner — by 
wasting  nothing  and  saving  every  thing.  But  here 
the  comparison  ends.  The  miser's  only  pleasure  is  in 
saving.  The  prudent  economist  spends  what  he  can 
afford  for  comfort  and  enjoyment,  and  saves  a  surplus 
for  some  future  time.  The  avaricious  person  makes 
gold  his  idol :  it  is  his  molten  calf,  before  which  he  con- 
stantly bows  down ;  whereas  the  thrifty  person  regards 
it  as  a  useful  instrument,  and  as  a  means  of  j^romoting 
his  own  happiness  and  the  happiness  of  those  who  are 
dependent  upon  him.  The  miser  is  never  satisfied.  He 
amasses  wealth  that  he  can  never  consume,  but  leaves 
it  to  be  squandered  by  others,  probably  by  spend- 
thrifts ;  whereas  the  economist  aims  at  securing  a  fair 


CHAP.  YI.]  A  Dignity  in  Saving.  109 

share  of  the  world's  wealth  and  comfort,  without  any 
thought  of  amassing  a  fortune. 

It  is  the  duty  of  all  persons  to  economize  their  means 
— of  the  young  as  well  as  of  the  old.  The  Duke  of 
Sully  mentions,  in  his  "  Memoirs,"  that  nothing  contrib- 
uted more  to  his  fortune  than  the  prudent  economy 
which  he  practiced,  even  in  his  youth,  of  always  pre- 
serving some  ready  money  in  hand  for  the  purpose  of 
meeting  circumstances  of  emergency.  Is  a  man  mar- 
ried ?  Then  the  duty  of  economy  is  still  more  binding. 
His  wife  and  children  plead  to  him  most  eloquently. 
Are  they,  in  the  event  of  his  early  death,  to  be  left  to 
buffet  with  the  world  unaided  ?  The  hand  of  charity 
is  cold,  the  gifts  of  charity  are  valueless  compared 
with  the  gains  of  industry  and  the  honest  savings  of 
frugal  labor,  which  carry  with  them  blessings  and  com- 
forts, without  inflicting  any  wound  upon  the  feelings 
of  the  helpless  and  bereaved.  Let  every  man,  there- 
fore, who  can,  endeavor  to  economize  and  to  save ;  not 
to  hoard,  but  to  nurse  his  little  savings,  for  the  sake  of 
promoting  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  himself  while 
here,  and  of  others  when  he  has  departed. 

There  is  a  dignity  in  the  very  effort  to  save  with  a 
worthy  purpose,  even  though  the  attempt  should  not 
be  crowned  with  eventual  success.  It  produces  a  well- 
regulated  mind ;  it  gives  prudence  a  triumph  over  ex- 
travagance ;  it  gives  virtue  the  mastery  over  vice ;  it 
puts  the  passions  under  control ;  it  drives  away  care ; 
it  secures  comfort.  Saved  money,  however  little,  will 
serve  to  dry  up  many  a  tear — will  ward  off*  many  sor- 
rows and  heart-burnings,  which  otherwise  might  prey 
upon  us.  Possessed  of  a  little  store  of  capital,  a  man 
walks  with  a  lighter  step,  his  heart  beats  more  cheeri- 
ly. When  interruption  of  work  or  adversity  happens, 
he  can  meet  it ;  he  can  recline  on  his  capital,  which 
will  either  break  his  fall  or  prevent  it  altogether.     By 


110  Self-improvement  [chap.  VI. 

prudential  economy,  we  can  realize  the  dignity  of  man; 
life  will  be  a  blessing,  and  old  age  an  honor.  We  can 
ultimately,  under  a  kind  Providence,  surrender  life, 
conscious  that  we  have  been  no  burden  upon  society, 
but  rather,  perhaps,  an  acquisition  and  ornament  to  it ; 
conscious,  also,  that,  as  we  have  been  independent,  our 
children  after  us,  by  following  our  example  and  avail- 
ing themselves  of  the  means  we  have  left  behind  us, 
will  walk  in  like  manner  through  tlie  world  in  happi- 
ness and  independence. 

Every  man's  first  duty  is,  to  improve,  to  educate,  and 
elevate  himself,  helping  forward  his  brethren  at  the 
same  time  by  all  reasonable  methods.  Each  has  with- 
in himself  the  capability  of  free-will  and  free  action  to 
a  large  extent ;  and  the  fact  is  proved  by  the  multi- 
tude of  men  who  have  successfully  battled  with  and 
overcome  the  adverse  circumstances  of  life  in  which 
they  have  been  placed ;  and  who  have  risen  from  the 
lowest  depths  of  poverty  aud  social  debasement,  as  if 
to  prove  what  energetic  man,  resolute  of  purpose,  can 
do  for  his  own  elevation,  progress,  and  advancement  in 
the  world.  Is  it  not  a  fact  that  the  greatness  of  hu- 
manity, the  glory  of  communities,  the  power  of  nations, 
are  the  result  of  trials  and  difficulties  encountered  and 
overcome  ? 

Let  a  man  resolve  and  determine  that  he  will  ad- 
vance, and  the  first  step  of  advancement  is  already 
made.  The  first  step  is  half  the  battle.  In  the  very 
fact  of  advancing  himself,  he  is  in  the  most  eifectual 
possible  way  advancing  others.  He  is  giving  them 
the  most  eloquent  of  all  lessons  —  that  of  example; 
which  teaches  far  more  emphatically  than  words  can 
teach.  Pie  is  doing  what  others  are  by  imitation  in- 
cited to  do.  Beginning  with  himself,  he  is  in  the  most 
emphatic  manner  teaching  the  duty  of  self-reform  and 
of  self-improvement;  and  if  the  majority  of  men  acted 


CHAP.  Yi.]  Causes  of  Failure.  Ill 

as  he  did,  how  much  wiser,  how  much  happier,  how 
much  more  prosperous,  as  a  whole,  would  society  be- 
come !  For,  society  being  made  up  of  units,  will  be 
happy  and  prosperous,  or  the  reverse,  exactly  in  the 
same  degree  as  the  respective  individuals  who  com- 
pose it. 

Complaints  about  the  inequality  of  conditions  are 
as  old  as  the  world.  In  the  "Economy  "  of  Xenophon, 
Socrates  asks, "  How  is  it  that  some  men  live  in  abun- 
dance, and  have  something  to  spare,  while  others  can 
scarcely  obtain  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  at  the  same 
time  run  into  debt?"  "The  reason  is,"  replied  Isoma- 
chus,  "  because  the  former  occupy  themselves  with 
their  business,  while  the  latter  neglect  it." 

The  difference  between  men  consists,  for  the  most 
part,  in  intelligence,  conduct,  and  energy.  The  best 
character  never  works  by  chance,  but  is  under  the  in- 
fluence of  virtue,  prudence,  and  forethought. 

There  are,  of  course,  many  failures  in  the  world. 
The  man  who  looks  to  others  for  help,  instead  of  rely- 
ing on  himself,  will  fail.  The  man  who  is  undergoing 
the  process  of  perpetual  waste  will  fail.  The  miser, 
the  scrub,  the  extravagant,  the  thriftless,  will  necessa- 
rily fail.  Indeed,  most  people  fail  because  they  do  not 
deserve  to  succeed.  They  set  about  their  work  in  the 
wrong  way,  and  no  amount  of  experience  seems  to  im- 
prove them.  There  is  not  so  much  in  luck  as  some 
people  profess  to  believe.  Luck  is  only  another  word 
for  good  management  in  practical  aflairs.  Richelieu 
used  to  say  that  he  would  not  continue  to  employ  an 
unlucky  man — in  other  words,  a  man  wanting  in  prac- 
tical qualities,  and  unable  to  profit  by  experience ;  for 
failures  in  the  past  are  very  often  the  auguries  of  fail- 
ures in  the  future. 

Some  of  the  best  and  ablest  of  men  are  wanting  in 
tact.     Tliev  will  neither  make   allowance  for  circum- 


112  The  Price  of  Success.  [CHAP.  vi. 

stances,  nor  adapt  themselves  to  circumstances :  they 
^vill  insist  on  trying  to  drive  their  wedge  the  broad 
end  foremost.  Tliey  raise  walls  only  to  run  their  own 
heads  against.  They  make  such  great  preparations, 
and  use  such  great  j^recautions,  that  they  defeat  their 
own  object — like  the  Dutchman  mentioned  by  Wash- 
ington Irving,  who,  having  to  leap  a  ditch,  went  so  far 
back  to  have  a  good  run  at  it,  that  when  he  came  up 
he  was  completely  winded,  and  had  to  sit  down  on  the 
wrong  side  to  recover  his  breath. 

In  actual  life,  we  want  things  done,  not  preparations 
for  doing  it;  and  we  naturally  prefer  the  man  who 
has  definite  aims  and  purposes,  and  proceeds  in  the 
straightest  and  shortest  way  to  accomplish  his  object, 
to  the  one  who  describes  the  thing  to  be  done,  and 
spins  fine  phrases  about  doing  it.  Without  action, 
words  are  mere  maundering. 

The  desire  for  success  in  the  world,  and  even  for  the 
accumulation  of  money,  is  not  without  its  iises.  It 
lias  doubtless  been  implanted  in  the  human  heart  for 
good  rather  than  for  evil  purposes.  Indeed,  the  desire 
to  accumulate  forms  one  of  the  most  powerful  instru- 
ments for  the  regeneration  of  society.  It  provides  the 
basis  for  individual  energy  and  activity.  It  is  the  be- 
ginning of  maritime  and  commercial  enterprise.  It  is 
the  foundation  of  industry,  as  well  as  of  independence. 
It  impels  men  to  labor,  to  invent,  and  to  excel. 

Xo  idle  or  thriftless  man  ever  became  great.  It  is 
among  those  who  never  lost  a  moment  that  we  find 
the  men  who  have  moved  and  advanced  the  world — 
by  their  learning,  their  science,  or  their  inventions. 
Labor  of  some  sort  is  one  of  the  conditions  of  exist- 
ence. The  thought  has  come  down  to  us  from  pagan 
times,  that  *'  labor  is  the  price  which  the  gods  have 
set  upon  all  that  is  excellent."  The  thought  is  also 
worthy  of  Christian  times. 


CHAP.  VI.]  Power  of  Comhining.  113 

Every  thing  depends,  as  "sve  shall  afterward  find, 
upon  the  uses  to  which  accumulations  of  wealth  are 
applied.  On  the  tombstone  of  John  Donough,  of  New 
Orleans,  the  following  maxims  are  engraved  as  the 
merchant's  guide  to  young  men  on  their  way  through 
life: 

"Eemember  always  that  labov  is  one  of  the  condhions  of  our  ex- 
istence. 

"Time  is  gold;  throw  not  one  minute  away,  but  place  each  one  to 
account. 

"Do  unto  all  men  as  you  would  be  done  by. 

"Never  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  can  be  done  to-day. 

"Never  bid  another  do  what  you  can  do  yourself. 

"Never  covet  what  is  not  your  own. 

"Never  think  any  matter  so  trifling  as  not  to  deserve  notice. 

"Never  give  out  what  does  not  come  in. 

"Do  not  spend,  but  produce. 

"Let  the  greatest  order  regulate  the  actions  of  your  life. 

"Study  in  your  course  of  life  to  do  the  greatest  amount  of  good. 

"Deprive  yourself  of  nothing  that  is  necessary  to  your  comfort,  but 
live  in  honorable  simplicity  and  frugality. 

"Ijftbor,  then,  to  tlie  last  moment  of  your  existence." 

Most  men  have  it  in  their  power,  by  prudent  ar- 
rangements, to  defend  themselves  against  adversity, 
and  to  throw  uj)  a  barrier  against  destitution.  They 
can  do  this  by  their  own  individual  efforts,  or  by  act- 
ing on  the  principle  of  co-operation,  which  is  capable 
of  an  almost  indefinite  extension.  People  of  the  most 
humble  condition,  by  combining  their  means  and  asso- 
ciating together,  are  enabled  in  many  -ways  to  defend 
themselves  against  the  pressure  of  poverty,  to  promote 
their  physical  well-being,  and  even  to  advance  the  prog- 
ress of  the  nation. 

A  solitary  individual  may  be  able  to  do  very  little 
to  advance  and  improve  society ;  but  when  he  com- 
bines -with  his  fellows  for  the  purpose,  he  can  do  a  very 
great  deal.  Civilization  itself  is  but  the  eftect  of  com- 
bining. Mr.  Mill  has  said  that  "  almost  all  the  advan- 
tages which  man  possesses  over  the  inferior  animals 


114  Principle  of  Association.  [chap.  vi. 

arise  from  his  power  of  acting  in  combination  with  his 
fellows,  and  of  accomplishing,  by  the  united  efforts  of 
numbers,  what  could  not  be  accomplished  by  the  de- 
tached efforts  of  individuals." 

The  secret  of  social  development  is  to  be  found  in 
co-operation;  and  the  great  question  of  improved 
economical  and  social  life  can  only  receive  a  satisfac- 
tory solution  through  its  means.  To  effect  good  on  a 
large  scale,  men  must  combine  their  efforts ;  and  the 
best  social  system  is  that  in  which  the  organization  for 
the  common  good  is  rendered  the  most  complete  in  all 
respects. 

The  middle  classes  have  largely  employed  the  prin- 
ciple of  association.  No  class  has  risen  so  rapidl}'',  or 
done  more  by  their  energy  and  industry  to  advance 
the  power  and  progress  of  England.  And  why  ?  Be- 
cause the  most  active  have  always  been  the  most  ready 
to  associate,  to  co-operate,  and  to  combine.  They  have 
combined  when  they  were  attacked,  combined  when 
they  had  an  abuse  to  destroy,  or  a  great  object  to  ac- 
complish. They  have  associated  together  to  manufact- 
ure articles  of  commerce,  to  make  canals,  to  construct 
railways,  to  form  gas  companies,  to  institute  insurance 
and  banking  companies,  and  to  do  an  immense  amount 
of  industrial  work.  By  combining  their  small  capitals 
together,  they  have  been  able  to  accumulate  an  enor- 
mous aggregate  capital,  and  to  execute  the  most  gi- 
gantic undertakings. 

The  middle  classes  have  accomplished  more  by  the 
principle  of  co-operation  than  the  classes  who  have  so 
much  greater  need  of  it.  All  the  joint-stock  compa- 
nies are  the  result  of  association.  The  railways,  the 
telegraphs,  the  banks,  the  mines,  the  manufactories, 
liave,  for  the  most  part,  been  established  and  are  car- 
ried on  by  means  of  the  savings  of  the  middle  classes. 

The  working-classes  have  only  begun  to  employ  the 


CHAP.  VI.]  Savings  of  Capital.  115 

same  principle.  Yet  how  much  might  they  accomplish 
by  its  means !  They  might  co-operate  in  saving  as 
well  as  in  producing.  They  might,  by  putting  their 
saved  earnings  together,  become,  by  combination,  their 
own  masters.  Within  a  few  years  past,  many  millions 
sterling  have  been  expended  in  strikes  for  wages.  A 
liundred  millions  a  year  are  thrown  away  upon  drink 
and  other  unnecessary  articles.  Here  is  an  enormous 
capital.  Men  who  expend  or  waste  such  an  amount 
can  easily  become  capitalists.  It  requires  only  will, 
energy,  and  self-denial.  So  much  money  spent  on 
buildings,  plant,  and  steam-engines  would  enable  them 
to  manufacture  for  themselves,  instead  of  for  the  bene- 
fit of  individual  capitalists.  The  steam-engine  is  im- 
partial in  its  services.  It  is  no  respecter  of  persons;  it 
will  work  for  the  benefit  of  the  laborer  as  well  as  for 
the  benefit  of  the  millionaire.  It  will  work  best  for 
those  who  make  the  best  use  of  it,  and  who  have  the 
greatest  knowledge  of  its  powers. 

The  greater  number  of  workmen  possess  little  capital 
save  their  labor ;  and,  as  we  have  already  seen,  many 
of  them  uselessly»and  wastefully  spend  most  of  their 
earnings,  instead  of  saving  them  and  becoming  capi- 
talists. By  combining  in  large  numbers  for  the  pur- 
poses of  economical  working,  they  might  easily  become 
capitalists,  and  operate  upon  a  large  scale.  As  society 
is  now  constituted,  every  man  is  not  only  justified,  but 
bound  in  duty  as  a  citizen,  to  accumulate  his  earnings 
by  all  fair  and  honorable  methods,  with  the  view  of 
securing  a  position  of  ultimate  competence  and  inde- 
pendence. 

We  do  not  say  that  men  should  save  and  hoard 
their  gains  for  the  mere  sake  of  saving  and  hoarding: 
this  would  be  parsimony  and  avarice.  But  we  do  say 
that  all  men  ought  to  aim  at  accumulating  a  sufficien- 
cy; enough  to  maintain  them  in  comfort  durinfj  the 


116  Loss  hy  Strikes.  [chap.  vi. 

helpless  years  that  are  to  come ;  to  maintain  them  in 
time  of  sickness  and  of  sorrow,  and  in  old  age,  which, 
if  it  does  come,  ought  to  find  them  with  a  little  store 
of  capital  in  hand,  sufiicient  to  secure  them  from  de- 
j^endence  upon  the  charity  of  others. 

Workmen  are  for  the  most  part  disposed  to  asso- 
ciate ;  but  the  association  is  not  always  of  a  healthy 
kind.  It  sometimes  takes  the  form  of  unions  against 
masters;  and  displays  itself  in  the  strikes  that  are  so 
common,  and  usually  so  unfortunate.  "Workmen  also 
strike  against  men  of  their  own  class,  for  the  purpose 
of  excluding  them  from  their  special  calling.  One  of 
the  princij^al  objects  of  trades- unions  is  to  keep  up 
wages  at  the  expense  of  the  lower-paid  and  unassoci- 
ated  working-people.  They  endeavor  to  prevent  poor- 
er men  learning  their  trade,  and  thus  keep  the  supply 
of  labor  below  the  demand.*  This  system  may  last 
for  a  time,  but  it  becomes  ruinous  in  the  end. 

It  is  not  the  want  of  money  that  prevents  skilled 
workmen  from  becoming  capitalists,  and  opening  the 
door  for  the  employment  of  laboring  men  who  are 
poorer  and  less  skilled  than  themselves.  The  work- 
people threw  away  half  a  million  sterling  during  the 
Preston  strike,  after  which  they  went  back  to  work 
at  the  old  terms.  The  London  building  trades  threw 
away  over  three  hundred  thousand  pounds  during 
their  strike ;  and  even  had  they  obtained  the  terms  for 
which  they  struck,  it  would  have  taken  six  years  to  re- 
cou])  them  for  their  loss.     The  colliers  in  the  Forest  of 


*  On  the  31st  of  January,  1875,  a  laborer  in  the  employment  of 
Messrs.  Vickers,  Sheffield,  who  had  not  served  an  apprenticeship,  ■was 
put  on  to  turn  one  of  the  lathes.  This  being  contrary  to  the  rules  of 
the  union,  the  men  in  the  shop  struck  work.  It  is  a  usual  course  for 
men  of  the  union  to  "strike"  in  this  manner  against  persons  of  their 
own  condition,  and  to  exercise  a  force  not  resting  in  law  or  natural 
right,  but  merely  on  the  will  of  a  majority,  and  directly  subversive  of 
the  freedom  of  the  individual. 


CHAP.  VI.]  Money  Thrown  Aivay.  117 

Dean  went  back  to  work  at  the  old  terms  after  eleven 
weeks'  play,  at  the  loss  of  fifty  thousand  pounds.  The 
iron- workers  of  Northumberland  and  Durham,  after 
spending  a  third  of  the  year  in  idleness,  and  losing 
two  hundred  thousand  pounds  in  wages,  went  back  to 
work  at  a  reduction  of  ten  per  cent.  The  colliers  and 
iron-workers  of  South  Wales,  during  the  recent  strike 
or  lock-out,  were  idle  for  four  months,  and,  according 
to  Lord  Aberdare,  lost,  in  wages  alone,  not  less  than 
three  millions  sterling ! 

Here,  then,  is  abundance  of  money  within  the  power 
of  working-men — money  which  they  might  utilize,  but 
do  not.  Think  only  of  a  solitary  million,  out  of  the 
three  millions  sterling  which  they  threw  away  during 
the  coal  strike,  being  devoted  to  the  starting  of  coll- 
ieries, or  iron-mills,  or  manufactories,  to  be  worked  by 
co-operative  production  for  the  benefit  of  the  opera- 
tives themselves.  With  frugal  habits,  says  Mr.  Greg, 
the  well-conditioned  workman  might  in  ten  years  easi- 
ly have  five  hundred  pounds  in  the  bank;  and,  com- 
bining his  savings  with  twenty  other  men  similarly 
disposed,  they  might  have  ten  thousand  pounds  for 
the  purpose  of  starting  any  manufacture  in  which  they 
are  adepts.* 

That  this  is  not  an  impracticable  scheme  is  capable 
of  being  easily  proved.  The  practice  of  co-operation 
has  long  been  adopted  by  work-people  throughout 
England.     A  large  proportion  of  the  fishery  industry 


*  "The  annual  expenditure  of  the  working-classes  alone,  on  drink 
and  tobacco,  is  not  less  than  £60,000,000.  Every  year,  therefore,  the 
working-classes  have  it  in  their  power  to  become  capitalists  {simply  by 
saving  wasteful  and  pernicious  expenditure)  to  an  extent  which  would 
enable  them  to  start  at  least  five  hundred  cotton-mills,  or  coal-mines, 
or  iron -works,  on  their  own  account,  or  to  purchase  at  least  500,000 
acres,  and  so  set  up  aOjOOO  families  each  with  a  nice  little  estate  of 
their  own  of  ten  acres,  on  fee  simple.  No  one  can  dispute  the  facts. 
No  one  can  deny  the  inference." — Quarterly  Review,  No.  2G3. 


118  Industrial  Societies.  [CHAP.  VL 

has  been  conducted  on  that  principle  for  hundreds  of 
years.  Fishermen  join  in  building,  rigging,  and  man- 
ning a  boat ;  the  jDroceeds  of  the  fish  they  catch  at  sea 
is  divided  among  them — so  much  to  the  boat,  so  much 
to  the  fishermen.  The  company  of  oyster-dredgers  of 
Whitstable  "  has  existed  time  out  of  mind,"*  though  it 
was  only  in  1793  that  they  were  incorporated  by  act 
of  Parliament.  The  tin-miners  of  Cornwall  have  also 
acted  on  the  same  principle.  They  have  mined,  wash- 
ed, and  sold  the  tin,  dividing  the  proceeds  among 
themselves  in  certain  proportions — most  probably  from 
the  time  that  tlie  Phoenicians  carried  away  the  produce 
to  their  ports  in  the  Mediterranean. 

In  our  own  time,  co-oj^eration  lias  been  practiced  to 
a  considerable  extent.  In  1795,  the  Hull  Anti-Mill 
Industrial  Society  was  founded.  The  reasons  for  its 
association  are  explained  in  the  petition  addressed  to 
the  mayor  and  aldermen  of  Hull  by  the  first  members 
of  the  society.  The  petition  begins  thus :  "  We,  the 
poor  inhabitants  of  the  said  town,  have  lately  expe- 
rienced much  trouble  and  sorrow  in  ourselves  and 
families,  on  the  occasion  of  the  exorbitant  price  of 
flour;  and  though  the  price  is  much  reduced  at  pres- 
ent, yet  we  judge  it  needful  to  take  every  precaution 
to  preserve  ourselves  from  the  invasions  of  covetous 
and  merciless  men  in  future."  They  accordingly  en- 
tered into  a  subscription  to  build  a  mill,  in  order  to 
supply  themselves  with  flour.  The  corporation  grant- 
ed their  petition,  and  supported  them  by  liberal  dona- 
tions. The  mill  was  built,  and  exists  to  this  day.  It 
now  consists  of  more  than  four  thousand  members,  each 
holding  a  share  of  twenty-five  shillings.  The  members 
belong  principally  to  the  laboring-classes.  The  millers 
endeavored  by  action  at  law  to  put  down  the  society, 

*  "  Reports  on  the  Paris  Universal  Exhibition,  18G7^"  vol.  vi.,  p.  252. 


CHAP.  VI.]  Co-operative  Comj^tanies.  119 

but  the  attempt  was  successfully  resisted.  The  socie- 
ty raanufactures  flour,  and  sells  it  to  the  members  at 
market  price,  dividing  the  profits  annually  among  the 
share-holders,  according  to  the  quantity  consumed  in 
each  member's  family.  The  society  has  proved  emi- 
nently remunerative. 

Many  years  passed  before  the  example  of  the  "poor 
inhabitants "  of  Hull  was  followed.  It  was  only  in 
1847  that  the  co-operators  of  Leeds  purchased  a  flour- 
mill,  and  in  1850  that  those  of  Rochdale  did  the  same; 
since  which  time  they  have  manufactured  flour  for  tlie 
benefit  of  their  members.  The  corn-millers  of  Leeds 
attempted  to  undersell  the  Leeds  Industrial  Society. 
They  soon  failed,  and  the  price  of  flour  was  permanent- 
ly reduced.  The  Leeds  mill  does  business  amounting 
to  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  pounds  yearly;  its 
capital  amounts  to  twenty-two  thousand  pounds ;  and 
it  paid  more  than  eight  thousand  pounds  of  profits 
and  bonuses  to  its  three  thousand  six  hundred  mem- 
bers in  1866,  besides  supplying  them  with  flour  of  the 
best  quality.  The  Rochdale  District  Co-operati\e 
Corn-mill  Society  has  also  been  eminently  successful. 
It  supplies  flour  to  consumers  residing  within  a  ra- 
dius of  about  fifteen  miles  round  Rochdale.*  It  also 
supplies  flour  to  sixty-two  co-operative  societies,  num- 
bering over  twelve  thousand  members.  Its  business 
in  1866  amounted  to  two  hundred  and  twenty-four 
thousand  pounds,  and  its  profits  to  over  eighteen  thou- 
sand pounds. 

The  Rochdale  Corn -mill  grew  out  of  the  Rochdale 
Equitable  Pioneers'  Society,  which  formed  an  epocli  in 
the  liistory  of  industrial  co-operative  institutions.  The 
Equitable  Pioneers'  Society  was  established  in  the  year 
1844,  at  a  time  when  trade  was  in  a  very  bad  condi- 

*  Its  history  is  given  in  the  Keports  above  referred  to,  p.  2G9. 


120  Equitable  Pioneers.  [chap.  VI. 


tion,  and  working-people  generally  were  heartless  and 
hopeless  as  to  their  future  state.  Some  twenty-eight 
or  thirty  men,  mostly  flannel-weavers,  met  and  formed 
themselves  into  a  society  for  the  purpose  of  economiz- 
ing their  hard-won  earnings.  It  is  pretty  well  known 
that  working-men  generally  pay  at  least  ten  per  cent, 
more  for  the  articles  they  consume  than  they  need  to 
do  under  a  sounder  system.  Professor  Fawcett  esti- 
mates their  loss  at  nearer  twenty  per  cent,  than  ten 
per  cent.  At  all  events,  these  working-men  wished  to 
save  this  amount  of  profit,  which  before  Avent  into  the 
pockets  of  the  distributors  of  the  necessaries — in  other 
words,  into  the  pockets  of  the  shop-keepers. 

The  weekly  subscrijjtion  was  twopence  each  ;  and 
when  about  tifty-two  calls  of  twopence  each  had  been 
made,  they  found  that  they  were  able  to  buy  a  sack  of 
oatmeal,  which  they  distributed  at  cost -price  among 
the  members  of  the  society.  The  number  of  members 
grew,  and  the  subscriptions  so  increased  that  the  so- 
ciety was  enabled  to  buy  tea,  sugar,  and  other  articles, 
and  distribute  them  among  the  members  at  cost-price. 
They  superseded  the  shop-keepers,  and  became  their 
own  tradesmen.  They  insisted  from  the  first  on  pay- 
ments in  cash.     No  credit  was  given. 

The  society  grew.  It  established  a  store  for  the  sale 
of  food,  firing,  clothes,  and  other  necessaries.  In  a  few 
years  the  members  set  on  foot  the  Co-operative  Corn- 
mill.  They  increased  the  capital  by  the  issue  of  one- 
pound  shares,  and  began  to  make  and  sell  clothes  and 
shoes.  They  also  sold  drapery.  But  the  principal 
trade  consisted  in  the  purchase  and  sale  of  provisions 
— butcher's  meat,  groceries,  flour,  and  such-like.  Not- 
withstanding the  great  distress  during  the  period  of 
the  cotton  famine,  the  society  continued  to  prosper. 
From  the  first,  it  set  apart  a  portion  of  its  funds  for 
educational  purposes,  and  established  a  news-room,  and 


CHAP,  yl]        Xcics  and  Beading  Booms.  121 

a  library,  wliich  now  contains  over  six  thousand  vol- 
umes. 

The  society  continued  to  increase  until  it  possessed 
eleven  branches  for  the  sale  of  goods  and  stores  in  or 
near  Rochdale,  besides  the  original  office  in  Toad  Lane. 
At  the  end  of  1866,  it  had  six  thousand  two  hundred 
and  forty- six  members,  and  a  capital  of  ninety -nine 
thousand  nine  hundred  and  eight  pounds.  Its  income 
for  goods  sold  and  cash  received  during  the  year  was 
two  hundred  and  forty-nine  thousand  one  hundred  and 
twenty- two  pounds;  and  the  gross  profit  thirty-one 
thousand  nine  hundred  and  tliirty-one  pounds. 

But  this  was  not  all.  Two  and  a  half  per  cent,  were 
appropriated  from  the  net  profits  to  support  the  news- 
rooms and  library;  and  there  are  now  eleven  news  and 
reading  rooms  at  different  places  in  or  near  the  town 
where  the  society  carries  on  its  business ;  the  sum  de- 
voted to  this  object  amounting  to  over  seven  hundred 
pounds  per  annum.  The  members  play  at  chess  and 
draughts,  and  use  the  stereoscopic  views,  microscopes, 
and  telescopes  placed  in  the  libraries.  No  special  ar- 
rangements have  been  made  to  promote  temperance; 
but  the  news-rooms  and  library  exercise  a  powerful 
and  beneficial  influence  in  promoting  sobriety.  It  has 
been  said  that  the  society  has  done  more  to  remove 
drunkenness  from  Rochdale  than  all  that  the  advo- 
cates of  temperance  have  been  able  to  effect. 

The  example  of  the  Rochdale  Pioneers  has  exercised 
a  powerful  influence  on  working-men  throughout  the 
northern  counties  of  England.  There  is  scarcely  a 
town  or  village  but  has  a  co-operative  institution  of 
one  kind  or  another.  These  societies  have  promoted 
habits  of  saving,  of  thrift,  and  of  temperance.  They 
have  given  the  people  an  interest  in  money  matters, 
and  enabled  them  to  lay  out  their  earnings  to  the  best 
advantage.     They  have  also  given  the  working-people 

6 


122  iJancen  Co-operatives.  [CHAP.  VI. 

some  knowledge  of  business ;  for  the  whole  of  their 
concerns  are  managed  by  committees  selected  at  the 
general  meetings  of  the  members. 

One  of  the  most  flourishing  co-operative  societies  is 
that  established  at  Over  Darwen.  The  society  has 
erected  a  row  of  handsome  buildings  in  the  centre  of 
the  town.  The  shops  for  the  sale  of  provisions,  gro- 
ceries, clothing,  and  other  necessaries  occupy  the  lower 
story.  Over  the  shops  are  the  library,  reading-rooms, 
and  class-rooms,  which  are  open  to  the  members  and 
their  families.  The  third  story  consists  of  a  large  pub- 
lic hall,  which  is  used  for  lectures,  concerts,  and  dances. 
There  are  six  branches  of  the  society  established  in 
different  parts  of  the  town.  A  large  amount  of  busi- 
ness is  done,  and  the  profits  are  very  considerable. 
These  are  divided  among  the  members,  in  proportion 
to  the  purchases  made  by  them.  The  profits  are  for 
the  most  part  re-invested  in  joint-stock  paper-mills, 
cotton -mills,  and  collieries,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Darwen.  One  of  the  most  praiseworthy  features  of 
the  society  is  the  provision  made  for  the  free  education 
of  the  members  and  their  families.  Two  and  a  half 
per  cent,  of  the  profits  are  appropriated  for  the  pur- 
pose. While  inspecting  the  institution  a  few  months 
ago,  we  were  informed  that  the  science  classes  were  so 
efiiciently  conducted  that  one  of  the  pupils  had  just 
obtained  a  Government  scholarship  of  fifty  pounds  a 
year,  for  three  years,  including  free  instruction  at  the 
School  of  Mines,  Jermyn  Street,  London,  -with  a  free 
use  of  the  laboratories  during  that  period.  There  are 
also  two  other  co-operative  institutions  in  the  same 
place ;  and  we  were  informed  that  the  working-people 
of  Darwen  are,  for  the  most  part,  hard-working,  sober, 
and  thrifty. 

The  example  has  also  spread  into  Scotland  and  the 
South  of  England.     At  Northampton,  a  co-operative 


CHAP.  VI.]  Spread  of  Co-operation.  123 

society  exists  for  the  purpose  of  buying  and  selling 
leather,  and  also  for  the  manufacture  of  boots  and 
shoes.  At  Padiham  and  other  places  in  Lancashire, 
co-operative  cotton-mills  have  been  established.  The 
Manchester  and  Salford  Equitable  Co-operative  Society 
"  combines  the  securities  and  facilities  of  a  bank  with 
the  profits  of  a  trade."  But  the  business  by  whicli 
it  mostly  thrives,  is  by  the  purchase  and  sale  of  food, 
provisions,  groceries,  draperies,  and  other  articles,  with 
the  exception  of  intoxicating  liquors. 

The  sole  secret  of  its  success  consists  in  "  ready 
money."  It  gives  no  credit.  Every  thing  is  done 
for  cash,  the  profit  of  the  trade  being  divided  among 
the  members.  Every  business  man  knows  that  cash 
payment  is  the  soundest  method  of  conducting  busi- 
ness: the  Rochdale  Pioneers  having  discovered  the 
secret,  have  spread  it  among  their  class.  In  their  "  ad- 
vice to  members  of  this  and  other  societies,"  they  say: 
"  Look  well  after  money  matters.  Buy  your  goods  as 
much  as  possible  in  the  first  markets;  or,  if  you  have 
the  produce  of  your  industry  to  sell,  contrive,  if  pos- 
sible, to  sell  it  in  the  last.  Never  depart  from  the 
principle  of  buying  and  selling  for  ready  money.  Be- 
ware of  long  reckonings."  In  short,  the  co-operative 
societies  became  tradesmen  on  a  large  scale ;  and,  be- 
sides the  purencss  of  the  food  sold,  their  profit  consist- 
ed in  the  discount  for  cash  payments,  which  was  divided 
among  the  members. 

Land  and  building  societies  constitute  another  form 
of  co-operation.  These  are  chiefly  supported  by  the 
minor  middle-class  men,  but  also  to  a  considerable  ex- 
tent by  the  skilled  and  thrifty  working-class  men.  By 
their  means  portions  of  land  are  bought,  and  dwelling- 
houses  are  built.  By  means  of  a  building  society,  a 
person  who  desires  to  possess  a  house  enters  the  society 
as  a  member,  and,  instead  of  paying  his  rent  to  the  land- 


124  Thrift  Conservative.  [chap.  vi. 

lord,  pays  his  subscriptions  and  interest  to  a  committee 
of  his  friends;  and  in  course  of  time,  when  his  subscrip- 
tions are  paid  up,  the  house  is  purchased,  and  conveyed 
to  him  by  the  society.  The  building  society  is  thus  a 
savings-bank,  where  money  accumulates  for  a  certain 
purpose.  But  even  those  who  do  not  purchase  a  house 
receive  a  dividend  and  bonus  on  their  shares,  which 
sometimes  amount  to  a  considerable  sum. 

The  accumulation  of  property  has  the  effect  which  it 
always  has  upon  thrifty  men;  it  makes  them  steady, 
sober,  and  diligent.  It  weans  them  from  revolutionary 
notions,  and  makes  them  conservative.  When  w'ork- 
men,  by  their  industry  and  frugality,  have  secured  their 
own  independence,  they  will  cease  to  regard  the  sight 
of  others'  well-being  as  a  wrong  inflicted  on  them- 
selves; and  it  will  no  longer  be  possible  to  make  polit- 
ical capital  out  of  their  imaginary  woes. 

It  has  been  said  that  freehold  land  societies,  which 
w'ere  established  for  political  objects,  had  the  effect  of 
weaning  men  from  political  reform.  They  were  first 
started  in  Birmingham,  for  the  purpose  of  enabling 
men  to  buy  land,  and  divide  it  into  forty-shilling  free- 
liolds,  so  that  the  owners  might  become  electors  and 
vote  against  the  corn-laws.  The  corn-laws  have  been 
done  away  with;  but  the  holders  of  freehold  land  still 
exist,  though  many  of  them  have  ceased  to  be  politi- 
cians. "Mr.  Arthur  Ryland  informs  me,"  said  Mr.  Hol- 
yoake,  in  a  recent  paper  on  building  societies,  "  that  in 
Birmingham  numbers  of  persons  under  the  influence 
of  these  societies  have  forsaken  patriotism  for  profits. 
And  I  know  both  co-operators  and  Chartists  who  w^ere 
loud-mouthed  for  social  and  political  reform,  who  noAV 
care  no  more  for  it  than  a  Whig  government ;  and  de- 
cline to  attend  a  public  meeting  on  a  fine  night,  while 
they  would  crawl  like  the  serpent  in  Eden,  through 
a  gutter  in   a   storm,  after  a  good   security.      They 


CHAP.  VI.]  Uses  of  Investments.  125 

have  tasted  land,  and  the  gravel  has  got  into  their 
souls." 

"  Yet  to  many  others,"  he  adds,  "  these  societies  have 
taught  a  healthy  frugality  they  never  else  would  have 
known ;  and  enabled  many  an  industrious  son  to  take 
to  his  home  his  poor  old  father  —  who  expected  and 
dreaded  to  die  in  the  work-house — and  set  him  down 
to  smoke  his  pipe  in  the  sunshine  in  the  garden,  of 
wliich  the  land  and  the  house  belonged  to  his  child."* 

The  Leeds  Permanent  Building  Society,  which  has 
furnished  healthy  tenements  for  about  two  hundred 
families,  sets  forth  tlie  following  recommendations  of 
the  influence  which  they  have  exercised  among  the 
working-classes  of  that  town:  "It  is  truly  cheering  to 
liear  the  members  themselves,  at  occasional  meetings, 
tell  how,  from  small  savings,  hitherto  deemed  too  little 
for  active  application,  they  began  to  invest  in  the  soci- 
ety; then  to  build  or  buy;  then  to  advance  in  life,  and 
come  to  competence,  from  extending  their  savings  in 

this  manner The  provident  habits  and  knowledge 

thus  induced  are  most  beneficial  to  the  members.  And 
the  result  is,  that  the  careless  become  thoughtful,  and, 
on  saving,  become  orderly,  respectable,  propertied,  and 
in  ever)'-  way  better  citizens,  neighbors,  and  more  wor- 
thy and  comfortable.  The  employment  of  money  in 
this  useful  direction  encourages  trade,  advances  prices 
and  wages,  comforts  the  working -classes,  and  at  the 
same  time  provides  the  means  of  home  enjoyments, 
without  which  such  advances  would  be  comj^aratively 
useless,  and  certainly  uncertain. "f 

There  are  also  exceptional  towns  and  villages  in  Lan- 
cashire where  large  sums  of  money  have  been  saved 

*  Paper  read  at  York  meeting  of  the  National  Society  for  Promot- 
ing Social  Science,  Septeinber  2Gth,  18Gt. 

t  Letter  of  Mr.  John  Holmes,  in  "  Keports  of  Paris  Universal  Ex- 
hibition, 18G7,"vol.  vi,,  p.  240. 


126  Building  Societies,  [CHAP.  VI. 

by  the  operatives  for  buying  or  building  comfortable 
cottage  dwellings.  Last  year  Padiham  saved  about 
fifteen  thousand  pounds  for  this  purj)ose,  although  its 
population  is  only  about  eight  thousand.  Burnley  has 
also  been  very  successful.  The  Building  Society  there 
has  six  thousand  six  hundred  investors,  who  saved  last 
year  one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand  pounds,  or  an  av- 
erage of  twenty-four  pounds  for  each  investor.  The 
members  consist  principally  of  mill  operatives,  miners, 
mechanics,  engineers,  carpenters,  stone-masons,  and  la- 
borers. They  also  include  women,  both  married  and 
unmarried.  Our  informant  states  that  "  great  numbers 
of  the  working-classes  have  purchased  houses  in  which 
to  live.  They  have  likewise  bought  houses  as  a  means 
of  investment.  The  Building  Society  has  assisted  in 
hundreds  of  these  cases,  by  advancing  money  on  mort- 
gage, such  mortgages  being  repaid  by  easy  install- 
ments." 

Building  societies  are,  on  the  Avhole,  among  the  most 
excellent  methods  of  illustratino;  the  advantai^es  of 
Thrift.  They  induce  men  to  save  money  for  the  pur- 
pose of  buying  their  own  homes ;  in  which,  so  long  as 
they  live,  they  possess  the  best  of  all  securities. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ECONOMY    IX   LIFE-ASSURANCE. 

*'Do  not,  for  one  repulse,  forego  the  purpose 
That  you  resolved  to  cftect." — Shaksi'Eare. 

"We  are  helpers,  fellow-creatures, 
Of  the  right  against  the  wrong." — E.  Barrett. 

"Life  was  not  given  us  to  be  all  used  up  in  the  pursuit  of  what  we 
must  leave  behind  us  when  we  die." — Joseph  May. 

*'Le  bonheur  ou  le  malheur  de  la  vieillesse  n'est  souvent  que  I'ex- 
trait  de  notre  vie  passee."  (The  blessedness  or  misery  of  old  age  is 
often  but  the  extract  of  our  past  life.) — De  Maistre. 

TWO  Other  methods  of  co-operative  saving  remain 
to  be  mentioned.  The  first  is  by  Life-assurance, 
which  enables  widows  and  children  to  be  provided 
for  at  the  death  of  the  assured ;  and  the  second  is  by- 
Friendly  Societies,  which  enable  working-men  to  pro- 
vide themselves  with  relief  in  sickness,  and  their  wid- 
ows and  orphans  with  a  small  sum  at  their  death.  The 
first  method  is  practiced  by  the  middle  and  upper  class- 
es, and  the  second  by  the  working-classes. 

It  might  possibly  take  a  long  time  to  save  enough 
money  to  provide  for  those  who  are  dependent  upon 
us ;  and  there  is  always  the  temptation  to  encroach 
upon  the  funds  set  apart  for  death,  which  —  as  many 
people  suppose — may  be  a  far-distant  event.  So  that 
saving  bit  by  bit,  from  week  to  week,  can  not  always 
be  relied  upon. 

The  person  who  joins  an  assurance  society  is  in  a 
different  position.  His  annual  or  quarterly  saving  be- 
comes at  once  a  portion  of  a  general  fund,  sufficient  to 
realize  the  intention  of  the  assured.     At  the  moment 


128  Co-operation  in  Assurance.       [chap.  vil. 

tliat  he  makes  his  first  payment,  his  object  is  attained. 
Though  he  die  on  the  day  after  his  premium  has  been 
paid,  liis  widow  and  cliildren  will  receive  the  entire 
amount  of  liis  assurance. 

This  system,  while  it  secures  a  provision  to  liis  sur- 
vivors, at  the  same  time  incites  a  man  to  the  moral 
obligation  of  exercising  foresight  and  prudence,  since 
through  its  means  these  virtues  may  be  practiced,  and 
their  ultimate  reward  secured.  Not  the  least  of  the 
advantages  attending  life-assurance  is  the  serenity  of 
mind  which  attends  the  provident  man  when  lying  on 
a  bed  of  sickness,  or  when  he  is  in  prospect  of  death 
— so  unlike  that  painful  anxiety  for  the  future  welfare 
of  a  family,  which  adds  poignancy  to  bodily  sufl'ering, 
and  retards  or  defeats  the  power  of  medicine.  The 
poet  Burns,  in  writing  to  a  friend  a  few  days  before  his 
death,  said  that  he  was  "  still  the  victim  of  affliction. 
Alas  !  Clai-k,  I  begin  to  fear  the  worst.  Burns's  poor 
Avidow,  and  half  a  dozen  of  his  dear  little  ones  helpless 
orphans;  there, I  am  weak  as  a  woman's  tear.  Enough 
of  this.  His  half  my  disease .'" 

Life-assurance  may  be  described  as  a  joint-stock  plan 
for  securing  widows  and  children  from  want.  It  is  an 
arrangement  by  means  of  Avhich  a  large  number  of  per- 
sons agree  to  lay  by  certain  small  sums,  called  "  premi- 
ums," yearly,  to  accumulate  at  interest,  as  in  a  savings- 
bank,  against  the  contingency  of  the  assurer's  death, 
when  the  amount  of  the  sum  subscribed  for  is  forth- 
with handed  over  to  his  survivors.  By  this  means, 
2:)ersons  possessed  of  but  little  capital,  though  enjoying 
regular  wages  or  salaries,  however  small,  may  at  once 
form  a  fund  for  the  benefit  of  their  fiimily  at  death. 

AYe  often  hear  of  men  who  have  been  diligent  and 
useful  members  of  society  dying  and  leaving  their 
wives  and  families  in  absolute  poverty.  They  have 
lived  in  respectable  style,  paid  high  rents  for  their 


CHAP.  VIl]  Improvidence  Cruel.  129 

houses,  dressed  'well,  kept  up  good  visiting  acquaint- 
ance, -were  seen  at  most  places  of  amusement,  and 
brought  up  their  children  "vvith  certain  ideas  of  social 
position  and  respectability ;  but  death  has  stricken 
them  down,  and  what  is  the  situation  of  their  families? 
Plas  the  father  provided  for  their  future  ?  From  twen- 
ty to  twenty-five  pounds  a  year,  paid  into  an  assurance 
society,  would  have  secured  their  widows  and  children 
against  absolute  want.  Have  they  performed  this 
duty?  Ko,  they  have  done  nothing  of  the  kind;  it 
turns  out  that  the  family  have  been  living  up  to  their 
means,  if  not  beyond  them,  and  the  issue  is,  that  they 
are  thrown  suddenly  bankrupt  upon  the  world. 

Conduct  such  as  this  is  not  only  thoughtless  and  im- 
provident, but  heartless  and  cruel  in  the  last  degree. 
To  bring  a  family  into  the  world,  give  them  refined 
tastes,  and  accustom  them  to  comforts,  the  loss  of  which 
is  misery,  and  then  to  leave  the  family  to  the  work- 
liouse,  the  prison,  or  the  street — to  the  alms  of  relatives, 
or  to  the  charity  of  the  public — is  nothing  short  of  a 
crime  done  against  society,  as  well  as  against  the  un- 
fortunate individuals  who  are  the  immediate  sufferers. 

It  will  be  admitted  that  the  number  of  men  who  can 
lay  by  a  sufficient  store  of  capital  for  the  benefit  of 
their  families  is,  in  these  times  of  intense  competition, 
comparatively  small.  Perhaps  the  claims  of  an  increas- 
ing lamily  absorb  nearly  all  their  gains,  and  find  that 
the  sum  Avhich  they  can  put  away  in  the  bank  is  so 
small  that  it  is  not  put  away  at  all.  They  become 
reckless  of  ever  attaining  so  apparently  hopeless  an  ob- 
ject as  that  of  an  accumulation  of  savings  for  the  ben- 
efit of  their  families  at  death. 

Take  the  case  of  a  married  man  with  a  family.  lie 
lias  begun  business,  and  thinks  that,  if  his  life  were 
spared,  he  might  in  course  of  years  be  able  to  lay  by 
sufficient  savings  to  provide  for  his  wife  and  family  at 

6* 


130  Compensatlo7i  of  Assurance.     [CHAP.  vii. 

his  death.  But  life  is  most  uncertain,  and  he  knows 
that  at  any  moment  he  may  be  taken  away,  leaving 
those  he  holds  most  dear  comparatively  destitute.  At 
thirty  he  determines  to  join  a  sound  life-office.  He  in- 
sures for  five  hundred  pounds,  payable  to  his  survivors 
at  his  death,  and  pays  from  twelve  to  thirteen  pounds 
yearly.  From  the  moment  on  which  he  pays  that 
amount,  the  five  hundred  pounds  are  secured  for  his 
family,  although  he  died  the  very  next  day. 

Now,  if  he  had  deposited  this  twelve  or  thirteen 
pounds  yearly  in  a  bank,  or  employed  it  at  interest, 
it  would  have  taken  about  twenty  years  before  his 
savings  would  have  amounted  to  five  hundred  pounds. 
But  by  the  simple  and  beautiful  expedient  of  life-as- 
surance, these  twenty-six  years  of  the  best  part  of  his 
life  are,  on  this  account  at  least;  secured  against  anx- 
iety and  care.  The  anticipation  of  future  evil  no  long- 
er robs  him  of  present  enjoyment.  By  means  of  his 
annual  fixed  payment — which  decreases  according  to 
the  profits  of  the  society  —  he  is  secure  of  leaving  a 
fixed  sum  at  his  death  for  the  benefit  of  his  family. 

In  this  way,  life  assurance  may  be  regarded  in  the 
light  of  a  contract,  by  which  the  inequalities  of  life  are 
to  a  certain  extent  averaged  and  compensated,  so  that 
those  who  die  soon — or,  rather,  their  families — become 
sharers  in  the  good  fortune  of  those  who  live  beyond 
the  average  term  of  life.  And  even  should  the  assurer 
himself  live  beyond  the  period  at  which  his  savings 
would  have  accumulated  to  more  than  the  sum  in- 
sured, he  will  not  be  disposed  to  repine,  if  he  takes 
into  account  his  exemption  from  corroding  solicitude 
during  so  many  years  of  his  life. 

The  reasons  which  induce  a  man  to  insure  his  house 
and  stock  of  goods  against  the  accident  of  fire  ought 
to  be  still  more  imperative  in  inducing  him  to  insure 
his  life  atrainst  the  accident  of  disease  and  the  contin- 


CHAP.  VII.]  Benefit  Societies.  131 

gency  of  sudden  death.  What  is  worldly  prudence  in 
the  one  case  is  something  more  in  the  other;  it  has 
superadded  to  it  the  duty  of  providing  for  the  future 
maintenance  of  a  possibly  widowed  wife  and  orphaned 
children;  and  no  man  can  justly  stand  excused  who 
neglects  so  great  and  binding  an  obligation.  Is  it  an 
obligation  on  the  part  of  a  husband  and  father  to  pro- 
vide daily  bread  for  his  wife  and  children  during  his 
life  ?  Then  it  is  equally  an  obligation  on  his  part  to 
provide  means  for  their  adequate  support  in  event  of 
his  death.  The  duty  is  so  obvious,  the  means  of  per- 
forming it  are  so  simple,  and  are  now  so  easily  placed 
within  the  reach  of  all  men;  the  arrangement  is  so 
eminently  practical,  rational,  benevolent,  and  just;  it 
is,  moreover,  so  calculated  to  increase  every  wise  and 
prudent  man's  sense  of  self  respect,  and  to  encourage 
him  in  the  performance  of  all  proper  social  duties  — 
that  we  can  not  conceive  of  any  possible  objection  that 
can  be  urged  against  it ;  and  it  is  only  to  be  regretted 
that  the  practice  is  not  far  more  general  and  custom- 
ary than  it  is  among  all  classes  of  the  community.* 

The  friendly  or  benefit  societies  of  the  working- 
classes  are  also  co-operative  societies  under  another 
form.  They  cultivate  the  habit  of  prudent  self-reli- 
ance among  the  people,  and  are  consequently  worthy 
of  every  encouragement.  It  is  certainly  a  striking 
fact  that  some  four  millions  of  working-men  should 
have  organized  themselves  into  voluntary  associations 
for  the  purpose  of  mutual  support  in  time  of  sickness 
and  distress.     Those  societies  are  the  outgrowth,  in  a 

*  It  mny  be  mentioned  that  the  total  amount  assured  in  existing 
British  offices,  mostly  by  the  middle  classes,  is  about  three  hundred 
and  fifty  millions  sterling,  and  that  the  annual  premiums  payable 
amount  to  not  less  than  eleven  millions  sterling.  And  yet,  no  more 
than  one  person  in  twenty  of  the  persons  belonging  to  the  classes  to 
whom  life-assurance  is  especially  applicable  have  yet  availed  them- 
selves of  its  benefits. 


132  French  and  Belgian  Thrift.      [CHAP.  VII. 

great  measure,  of  the  English  love  of  self-government 
and  social  independence — in  illustration  of  which  it 
may  be  stated,  that,  whereas  in  France  only  one  per- 
son in  seventy-six  is  found  belonging  to  a  benefit  so- 
ciety, and  in  Belgium  one  in  sixty-four,  the  proportion 
in  Enojland  is  found  to  be  one  in  nine.  The  EnoHsli 
societies  are  said  to  have  in  hand  funds  amounting  to 
more  than  eleven  millions  sterling;  and  they  distribute 
relief  among  their  members,  provided  by  voluntary 
contributions  out  of  their  weekly  earnings,  amounting 
to  above  two  millions  yearly. 

Although  the  working-classes  of  France  and  Belgium 
do  not  belong  to  benefit  societies  to  any  thing  like  the 
same  extent,  it  must  be  stated,  in  their  justification, 
that  they  are  among  the  most  thrifty  and  prudent  peo- 
ple in  the  world.  They  invest  their  savings  principal- 
ly in  land  and  in  the  public  funds.  The  French  and 
Belgians  have  a  positive  hunger  for  land.  They  save 
every  thing  that  they  can  for  the  purpose  of  acquiring 
more.  And  with  respect  to  their  investments  in  the 
public  funds,  it  may  be  mentioned,  as  a  well-known 
fact,  that  it  was  the  French  peasantry  who,  by  invest- 
ing their  savings  in  the  National  Defense  Loan,  liber- 
ated French  soil  from  the  tread  of  their  German  con- 
querors.* 

English  benefit  societies,  notwithstanding  their  great 
uses  and  benefits,  have  numerous  defects.  There  are 
faults  in  the  details  of  their  organization  and  manage- 


*  At  the  present  time  one  individual  out  of  every  eight  in  the  popu- 
lation of  France  has  a  share  in  the  National  Debt,  the  average  amount 
held  being  one  hundred  and  seventy  francs.  The  participants  in  the 
debt  approach  closely  to  the  number  of  freeholders,  or  rather  distinct 
fieeholdings,  which  amount  to  5,550,000,  according  to  the  last  return. 
France  certainly  furnishes  a  singular  exception  to  those  countries  of 
(Central  and  Western  Europe,  where  "the  rich  are  getting  more  rich 
and  the  poor  ever  more  poor."  Jn  France  wealth  becomes  more  and 
more  distril)uted  among  the  bulk  of  the  population. 


CHAP.  VII.]  Workmen's  Societies.  133 

ment,  while  many  of  them  are  financially  unsound. 
Like  other  institutions  in  their  early  stages,  they  have 
been  tentative  and  in  a  great  measure  empirical — more 
especially  as  regards  their  rates  of  contribution  and 
allowances  for  sick  relief.  The  rates  have  in  many 
cases  been  fixed  too  low,  in  proportion  to  the  bene- 
fits allowed;  and  hence  the  "box"  is  often  declared 
to  be  closed,  after  the  money  subscribed  has  been 
expended.  The  society  then  comes  to  an  end,  and 
the  older  members  have  to  go  without  relief  for  the 
rest  of  their  lives.  But  life-assurance  societies  them- 
selves have  had  to  undergo  the  same  discipline  of 
failure,  and  the  operation  of  "winding  up"  has  not 
unfrequently  thrown  discredit  upon  these  middle-class 
associations. 

To  quote  the  words  of  the  registrar  of  friendly  so- 
cieties, in  a  recent  report:  "Though  the  information 
thus  far  obtained  is  not  very  encouraging  as  to  the 
general  system  of  management,  on  the  whole,  perhaps, 
the  results  of  the  investments  of  the  poor  are  not 
worse  tlian  those  which  noblemen,  members  of  Parlia- 
ment, merchants,  professed  financiers,  and  speculators 
Iiave  contrived  to  attain  in  their  management  of  rail- 
Avays,  joint-stock  banks,  and  enterprises  of  all  kinds." 

The  workmen's  societies  originated  for  the  most  part 
in  a  common  want,  felt  by  persons  of  small  means,  un- 
able to  accumulate  any  considerable  store  of  savings 
to  provide  against  destitution  in  the  event  of  disable- 
ment by  disease  or  accident.  At  the  beginning  of  life, 
persons  earning  their  bread  by  daily  labor  are  able  to 
save  money  with  difficulty.  Unavoidable  expenses  al)- 
sorb  their  limited  means  and  press  heavily  on  their 
income.  When  unable  to  work,  any  little  store  tliey 
may  have  accumulated  is  soon  spent;  and  if  they  have 
a  family  to  maintain,  there  is  then  no  clioice  beforg 
them  but  destitution,  begging,  or  recourse  to  the  poor- 


IS-i  Manchester  Unity,  [CHAP.  vii. 

rates.  In  their  desire  to  avoid  either  of  these  alterna- 
tives, they  have  contrived  the  expedient  of  the  benefit 
society.  By  combining  and  putting  a  large  number  of 
small  contributions  together,  they  have  found  it  prac- 
ticable thus  to  provide  a  fund  sufficiently  large  to  meet 
tlieir  ordinary  requirements  during  sickness. 

The  means  by  Avhich  this  is  accomplished  are  very 
simple.  Each  member  contributes  to  a  common  fund 
at  the  rate  of  from  fourpence  to  sixpence  a  week,  and 
out  of  this  fund  the  stipulated  allowance  is  paid.  Most 
benefit  societies  have  also  a  widows  and  orphans' 
fund,  raised  in  like  manner,  out  of  which  a  sum  is  paid 
to  the  survivors  of  members  at  their  death.  It  will  be 
obvious  that  such  organizations,  however  faulty  they 
may  be  in  detail,  can  not  fail  to  exercise  a  beneficial 
influence  upon  society  at  large.  The  fact  that  one  of 
such  associations  (the  Manchester  Unity  of  Odd  Fel- 
lows) numbers  about  half  a  million  of  members,  pos- 
sesses a  funded  capital  amounting  to  £3,706,366,  and 
distributes  in  sick -relief  and  payments  of  sums  at 
death  above  £300,000  a  year,  illustrates  in  a  striking 
light  their  beneficial  action  upon  the  classes  for  whom 
and  by  whom  they  have  been  established.  By  their 
means,  working-men  are  enabled  to  secure  the  results 
of  economy  at  a  comparatively  small  cost.  For  mut- 
ual assurance  is  economy  in  its  most  economical  form ; 
and  merely  presents  another  illustration  of  that  power 
of  co-operation  which  is  working  out  such  extraordinary 
results  in  all  departments  of  society,  and  is  in  fact  but 
another  name  for  civilization. 

Many  persons  object  to  friendly  societies  because 
they  are  conducted  at  public-houses ;  because  many  of 
them  are  got  up  by  the  keepers  of  public -houses  in 
order  to  obtain  custom  from  the  members ;  and  because, 
in  their  fortnightly  meetings  to  pay  their  subscrip- 
tions, they  acquire  the  pernicious  habit  of  drinking, 


CHAP.  VII.]  Dutij  and  Dinners.  135 

and  thus  waste  quite  as  much  as  they  save.  The 
friendly  societies  doubtless  rely  very  much  on  the  so- 
cial element.  The  public-house  is  every  body's  house. 
The  members  can  there  meet  together,  talk  together, 
and  drink  together.  It  is  extremely  probable  that 
had  they  trusted  solely  to  the  sense  of  duty — the  duty 
of  insuring  against  sickness — and  merely  required  the 
members  to  pay  their  weekly  contributions  to  a  col- 
lector, very  few  societies  of  the  kind  would  have  re- 
mained in  existence.  In  a  large  number  of  cases,  there 
is  practically  no  choice  between  the  society  that  meets 
at  a  public-house  and  none  at  all. 

It  so  liappens  that  the  world  can  not  be  conducted 
on  superfine  principles.  To  most  men,  and  especially 
to  the  men  we  are  speaking  of,  it  is  a  rough,  working 
world,  conducted  on  common  principles,  such  as  will 
wear.  To  some  it  may  seem  vulgar  to  associate  beer, 
tobacco,  or  feasting  with  the  pure  and  simple  duty  of 
effecting  an  insurance  against  disablement  by  sickness; 
but  the  world  we  live  in  is  vulgar,  and  we  must  take 
it  as  we  find  it,  and  try  to  make  the  best  of  it.  It 
must  be  admitted  that  the  tendencies  to  pure  good  in 
man  are  very  weak,  and  need  much  helping.  But  the 
expedient,  vulgar  though  it  be,  of  attracting  him, 
through  his  appetite  for  meat  and  drink,  to  perform  a 
duty  to  himself  and  neighbors,  is  by  no  means  confined 
to  societies  of  working-men.  There  is  scarcely  a  Lon- 
don charity  or  institution  but  has  its  annual  dinner  for 
the  purpose  of  attracting  subscribers.  Are  we  to  con- 
demn the  eighteen -penny  annual  dinner  of  the  poor 
man,  but  excuse  the  guinea  one  of  the  rich  ? 

A  vigorous  effort  was  made  by  Mr.  Akroyd,  of  Hal- 
ifax, in  I80G,  to  establish  a  Provident  Sick  Society 
and  Penny  Savings-bank  for  the  working-men  in  the 
West  Riding  of  Yorkshire.  An  organization  was  set 
on   foot  with  these   objects ;    and  though   the  penny 


136  Low  Rates  of  Contribution.      [CHAP.  Vii. 

bank  proved  a  complete  success,  the  provident  society 
proved  a  complete  failure.  Mr.  Akroyd  thus  explains 
the  causes  of  tlie  failure:  "We  found  the  ground  pre- 
occupied," he  says,  "  by  friendly  societies,  especially 
by  the  Odd  Fellows,  Druids,  Foresters,  etc. ;  and 
against  their  principles  of  self-government,  mutual 
check  against  fraud,  and  hrotherliood^  no  new  and  in- 
dependent society  can  compete.  Our  rates  were  also 
of  necessity  much  higher  than  theirs,  and  this  was  per- 
liaps  one  of  the  chief  causes  of  our  failure." 

Low  rates  of  contribution  have  been  the  principal 
cause  of  the  failure  of  friendly  societies.*  It  was  of 
course  natural  that  the  members,  being  persons  of  lim- 
ited means,  should  endeavor  to  secure  the  objects  of 
their  organization  at  the  lowest  cost.  They  therefore 
fixed  their  rates  as  low  as  possible ;  and,  as  the  results 
proved,  they  in  most  cases  fixed  them  too  low.  So 
long  as  the  societies  consisted,  for  the  most  part,  of 
young,  healthy  men,  and  the  average  amount  of  sick- 
ness remained  low,  the  payments  made  seemed  ample. 
The  funds  accumulated,  and  many  flattered  themselves 
that  their  societies  were  in  a  prosperous  state,  when 
they  contained  the  sure  elements  of  decay;  for,  as 
the  members  grew  older,  their  average  liability  to  sick- 
ness was  regularly  increasing.  The  efiects  of  increased 
age  upon  the  solvency  of  benefit  clubs  soon  becoming 
known,  young  men  avoided  the  older  societies,  and  pre- 


*  The  Registrar  of  Friendly  Societies,  in  his  report  for  1859,  states 
that  from  1793  to  1858,  the  iinmber  of  societies  enrolled  and  certified 
had  been  28,550,  of  which  G850  had  ceased  to  exist.  The  causes  of 
failure  in  most  cases  were  reported  to  be,  inadequacy  of  the  rates  of 
contribution,  the  granting  of  pensions  as  well  as  sick-pay,  and  no  in- 
crease of  young  members.  The  dissolution  of  a  society,  however,  is 
frequently  etlfected  with  a  view  of  remodeling  it,  and  starting  afresh 
under  better  regulations,  and  with  rates  of  premium  such  as  increased 
knowledge  has  shown  to  be  necessary  for  the  risks  wjiich  they  have  to 
incur. 


CHAP.  Yii.]     Failure  of  Friendly  Societies.  137 

ferred  setting  up  organizations  of  their  own.  The  con- 
sequence was,  that  the  old  men  began  to  draw  upon 
their  reserves  at  the  same  time  that  the  regular  con- 
tributions fell  off;  and  when,  as  was  frequently  the 
case,  a  few  constantly  ailing  members  kept  pressing 
upon  the  society,  the  funds  were  at  length  exhausted, 
"the  box"  was  declared  to  be  closed,  and  the  society 
was  broken  up.  Tlie  real  injustice  was  done  to  the 
younger  men  who  remained  in  the  society.  After  pay- 
ing their  contributions  for  many  years,  they  found, 
when  sickness  at  length  fell  upon  them,  that  the  funds 
had  been  exhausted  by  expenditure  for  superannua- 
tion and  other  allowances  which  were  not  provided 
for  by  the  rules  of  the  society. 

Even  the  best  of  the  benefit  societies  have  been  slow 
to  learn  the  essential  importance  of  adequate  rates  of 
contribution  to  enable  them  to  fulfill  their  obligations, 
and  insure  their  continued  usefulness  as  well  as  solven- 
cy. Tiie  defect  of  most  of  them  consists  in  their  try- 
ing to  do  too  much  with  too  little  means.  The  bene- 
fits paid  out  are  too  high  for  the  rates  of  contribution 
paid  in.  Those  who  come  first  are  served,  but  those 
who  come  late  too  often  find  an  empty  box.  Xot  only 
have  the  rates  of  payment  been  generally  fixed  too 
low,  but  there  has  been  little  or  no  discrimination  in 
the  selection  of  members.  Men  advanced  in  years  and 
of  fragile  health  are  often  admitted  on  the  same  terms 
as  the  young  and  the  healthy,  the  only  difference  being 
in  the  rate  of  entry-money.  Even  young  lodges  which 
start  with  inadequate  rates,  instead  of  growing  strong- 
er, gradually  grow  weaker;  and  in  the  event  of  a  few 
constantly  ailing  members  falling  upon  the  funds,  they 
soon  become  exhausted,  and  the  lodge  becomes  bank- 
rupt and  is  broken  up.  Such  has  been  the  history  of 
thousands  of  friendly  societies,  doing  good  and  serving 
u  useful  purpose  in  their  time,  but  short-lived,  cpheme- 


138  Improvement  hy  Experieyice.      [CHAP.  vii. 

ral,  and  to  many  of  their  members  disappointing  and 
even  deceptive. 

Attempts  have  been  recently  made — more  especially 
by  the  officers  of  the  Manchester  Unity  of  Odd  Fellows 
— to  improve  the  financial  condition  of  their  society. 
Perhaps  the  best  proof  of  the  desire  that  exists  on  the 
part  of  the  leading  minds  in  the  Unity  to  bring  the  or- 
ganization into  a  state  of  financial  soundness,  is  to  be 
found  in  the  fact  that  the  board  of  management  have 
authorized  the  publication  of  the  best  of  all  data  for 
future  guidance  —  namely,  the  actual  sickness  experi- 
ence of  the  order.  An  elaborate  series  of  tables  has 
accordingly  been  j^repared  and  published  for  their  in- 
formation by  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  the  corresponding  secre- 
tary, at  an  expense  of  about  three  thousand  five  hun- 
dred pounds.  In  the  preface  to  the  last  edition  it  is 
stated  that  "  this  sum  has  not  been  abstracted  from 
the  funds  set  apart  for  relief  during  sickness,  for  assur- 
ances at  death,  or  for  providing  for  necessitous  widows 
and  orphans,  but  from  the  management  funds  of  the 
lodges — funds  Avhich,  being  generally  raised  by  direct 
levy  on  the  members,  are  not,  therefore,  readily  expend- 
ed without  careful  consideration  on  the  part  of  those 
most  interested  in  the  character  and  welfare  of  their 
cherished  institution." 

We  believe  that  time  and  experience  will  enable  the 
leaders  of  friendly  societies  generally  to  improve  them, 
and  introduce  new  ameliorations.  The  best  institu- 
tions are  things  of  slow  growth,  and  are  shaped  by  ex- 
perience, which  includes  failures  as  well  as  successes; 
and  finally,  they  require  age  to  strengthen  them  and 
root  them  in  habit.  The  rudest  society  established 
by  working-men  for  mutual  help  in  sickness,  independ- 
ent of  help  from  private  charity  or  the  poor-rates,  is 
grounded  on  a  right  spirit,  and  is  deserving  of  every 
encouraofement.     It  furnishes  a  foundation   on  which 


CHAP.  VIL]         Defects  will  Disa2:)pear.  139 

to  build  up  something  better.  It  teaches  self-reliance, 
and  thus  cultivates  among  the  humblest  classes  habits 
of  provident  economy. 

Friendly  societies  began  their  operations  before  there 
was  any  science  of  vital  statistics  to  guide  them ;  and 
if  they  have  made  mistakes  in  mutual  assurance,  they 
have  not  stood  alone.  Looking  at  the  difficulties  they 
have  had  to  encounter,  they  are  entitled  to  be  judged 
charitably.  Good  advice  given  them  in  a  kindly  spir- 
it will  not  fail  to  produce  good  results.  The  defects 
which  are  mixed  up  with  them  are  to  be  regarded  as 
but  the  transient  integument  which  will  most  probably 
fall  away  as  the  flower  ripens  and  the  fruit  matures. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


SAVINGS-Bx\.NKS. 

"I  wish  I  could  write  all  across  the  sky,  in  letters  of  gold,  the  one 
word,  Savings-bank." — Rev.  Wm.  Marsh. 

"  Tlie  only  true  secret  of  assisting  the  poor  is  to  make  them  agents 
in  bettering  their  own  condition." — Archbishop  Sumner. 

"Qui  a  vingt  ne  sait,  a  trente  ne  pent,  a  quarante  n'a — ^jamais  ne 
saura,  ne  pourra,  n'aura." — French  Proverb. 

"Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard;  consider  her  ways,  and  be  wise: 
which  having  no  guide,  overseer,  or  ruler,  provideth  her  meat  in  the 
summer,  and  gathereth  her  food  in  tlie  harvest." — Proverbs  vi.,  6-8. 

T  is  said  that  tliere  is  a  skeleton  in  every  household. 
The  skeleton  is  locked  up — put  away  in  a  cupboard 
— and  rarely  seen.  Only  the  people  inside  the  house 
know  of  its  existence.  But  the  skeleton,  nevertheless, 
can  not  long  be  concealed.  It  comes  to  light  in  some 
way  or  another.  The  most  common  skeleton  is  Pov- 
erty. Poverty,  says  Douglas  Jerrold,  is  the  great  se- 
cret, kept  at  any  pains  by  one-half  tlie  world  from  the 
other  half.  When  there  is  nothing  laid  by — nothing 
saved  to  relieve  sickness  when  it  comes — nothing  to 
alleviate  the  wants  of  old  age — is  the  skeleton  hidden 
away  in  many  a  cupboard. 

In  a  country  such  as  this,  where  business  is  often 
brought  to  a  stand-still  by  overtrading  and  overspec- 
ulation,  many  masters,  clerks,  and  work-people  are 
thrown  out  of  employment.  They  must  wait  until 
better  times  come  round.  But  in  the  mean  time  how 
are  they  to  live?  If  they  have  accumulated  no  sav- 
ings, and  liave  nothing  laid  by,  they  are  comparative- 
ly destitute. 


CHAP.  VIII.]  Direct  Saving.  141 

Even  the  co-operative  cotton-mills,  or  co-operative 
banks,  "vvlnch  are  nothing  more  tlian  joint-stock  com- 
panies, limited,*  may  become  bankrupt.  They  may 
not  be  able,  as  was  the  case  during  the  cotton  famine, 
to  compete  with  large  capitalists  in  the  purchase  of 
cotton,  or  in  tlie  production  of  cotton  twist.  Co-oper- 
ative companies  established  for  the  purpose  of  manu- 
facturing are  probably  of  too  speculative  a  character 
to  alFord  much  lasting  benefit  to  the  working-classes; 
and  it  seems  that  by  far  the  safer  course  for  them  to 
pursue,  in  times  such  as  the  present,  is  by  means  of 
simple,  direct  saving.  There  may  be  less  chance  of 
gain,  but  there  is  less  risk  of  loss.  What  is  laid  by 
is  not  locked  up  and  contingent  for  its  productiveness 
upon  times  and  trade,  but  is  steadily  accumulating, 
and  is  always  ready  at  hand  for  use  when  the  pinch  of 
adversity  occurs. 

Mr.  Bright  stated  in  the  House  of  Commons,  in 
1860,f  that  the  income  of  the  working-classes  was  "un- 
derstated at  three  hundred  and  twelve  millions  a  year." 
Looking  at  the  increase  of  wages  which  has  taken 
place  during  the  last  fifteen  years,  their  income  must 
now  amount  to  at  least  four  hundred  millions.     Sure- 


*  "The  new  cotton  fiictovies  which  have  been  called  co-operative, 
and  which,  under  that  name,  have  brought  together  large  numbers  of 
share-holders  of  the  wage  classes,  are  all  now  in  reality  common  joint- 
stock  companies,  with  limited  liability.  The  so-called  co-operative 
share-holders  in  the  leading  establishments  decided,  as  I  am  informed, 
by  large  majorities,  that  the  workers  should  only  be  paid  wages  in  the 
ordinary  manner,  and  should  not  divide  profits.  The  wages  being  for 
piece-work,  it  was  held  that  the  payment  was  in  accordance  with  com- 
munistic principle,  '  each  according  to  his  capacity,  each  according  to 
his  work.'  The  common  spinner  had  had  no  share  in  the  work  of 
the  general  direction,  nor  had  he  evinced  any  of  the  capacity  or  thrift 
or  foresight  of  the  capitalist,  and  why  should  he  share  profits  as  if 
he  had?  The  wage  class,  in  their  capacity  of  share-holders,  decided 
that  it  was  an  unjust  claim  upon  their  profits,  and  kept  them  undi- 
vided to  themselves." — Edwin  Chadwick,  C.IJ. 

t  Speech  on  the  Representation  of  the  I'cople  Bill. 


142  Uses  of  Saved  Money.         [chap.  vili. 

ly,  out  of  this  large  fund  of  earnings,  the  working- 
classes  might  easily  save  from  thirty  to  forty  millions 
yearly.  At  all  events,  they  might  save  such  an  amount 
as,  if  properly  used  and  duly  economized,  could  not  fail 
to  establish  large  numbers  of  them  in  circumstances  of 
comfort,  and  even  of  comparative  wealth. 

The  instances  which  we  have  already  cited  of  per- 
sons in  the  humbler  ranks  of  life  having  by  prudential 
forethought  accumulated  a  considerable  store  of  sav- 
ings for  the  benefit  of  their  families,  and  as  a  stay  for 
their  old  age,  need  not  by  any  means  be  the  compara- 
tively exceptional  cases  that  they  are  now.  What  one 
well-regulated  person  is  able  to  do,  others,  influenced 
by  similar  self-reliant  motives,  and  practicing  like  so- 
briety and  frugality,  might  with  equal  ease  and  in  one 
way  or  another  accomplish.  A  man  who  has  more 
money  about  him  than  he  requires  for  current  purposes 
is  tempted  to  spend  it.  To  use  the  common  phrase,  it 
is  apt  to  "  burn  a  hole  in  his  pocket."  He  may  be  eas- 
ily entrapped  into  company ;  and  where  his  home  pro- 
vides but  small  comfort,  the  public -house,  with  its 
bright  fire,  is  always  ready  to  welcome  him. 

It  often  happens  that  workmen  lose  their  employment 
in  "  bad  times."  Mercantile  concerns  become  bankrupt, 
clerks  are  paid  off,  and  servants  are  dismissed  when 
their  masters  can  no  longer  employ  them.  If  the  dis- 
employed  people  have  been  in  the  habit  of  regularly 
consuming  all  their  salaries  and  wages,  without  laying 
any  thing  by,  their  case  is  about  the  most  pitiable  that 
can  be  imagined.  But  if  they  have  saved  something, 
at  home  or  in  the  savings-bank,  they  will  be  enabled  to 
break  their  fall.  They  will  obtain  some  breathing-time 
before  they  again  fall  into  employment.  Suppose  they 
have  as  much  as  ten  pounds  saved.  It  may  seem  a  very 
little  sura,  yet  in  distress  it  amounts  to  much.  It  may 
even  prove  a  man's  passport  to  future  independence. 


CHAP.  VIII.]  Uses  of  Saved  Money.  143 

With  ten  pounds,  a  workman  might  remove  from 
one  district  to  another  where  employment  is  more 
abundant.  AVith  ten  pounds,  he  might  emigrate  to 
Canada  or  the  United  States,  where  his  labor  miorht  be 
in  request.  Without  this  little  store  of  savings,  he 
might  be  rooted  to  his  native  spot,  like  a  limpet  to  the 
rock.  If  a  married  man  with  a  family,  his  ten  pounds 
would  save  his  home  from  wreckage,  and  his  household 
from  destitution.  Ilis  ten  pounds  would  keep  the  wolf 
from  tlie  door  until  better  times  came  round.  Ten 
pounds  would  keep  many  a  servant-girl  from  ruin,  give 
her  time  to  recruit  her  health,  perhaps  wasted  by  hard 
work,  and  enable  her  to  look  about  for  a  suitable  place, 
instead  of  rushing  into  the  first  that  offered. 

We  do  not  value  money  for  its  own  sake,  and  we 
should  be  the  last  to  encourage  a  miserly  desire  to 
lioard  among  any  class;  but  we  can  not  help  recogniz- 
ing in  money  the  means  of  life,  the  means  of  comfort, 
the  means  of  maintaining  an  honest  independence. 
We  would,  therefore,  recommend  every  young  man 
and  every  young  woman  to  begin  life  by  learning  to 
save ;  to  lay  up  for  the  future  a  certain  portion  of  ev- 
ery week's  earnings,  be  it  little  or  much ;  to  avoid  con- 
suming every  week  or  every  year  the  earnings  of  that 
week  or  year ;  and  we  counsel  them  to  do  this,  as  they 
would  avoid  the  horrors  of  dependence,  destitution,  or 
beggary.  We  would  have  men  and  women  of  every 
class  able  to  help  themselves — relying  npon  their  own 
resources — upon  their  own  savings ;  for  it  is  a  true  say- 
ing that  "  a  penny  in  the  purse  is  better  than  a  friend 
at  court."  The  first  penny  saved  is  a  step  in  the  world. 
The  fact  of  its  being  saved  and  laid  by  indicates  self- 
denial,  forethought,  prudence,  wisdom.  It  may  be  the 
germ  of  future  happiness.  It  may  be  the  beginning  of 
independence. 

Cobbctt  was  accustomed  to  scolf  at  the  "  bubble " 


14:4  Beginnings  of  Savings-hanks.    [CHAP.  Vlll. 

of  savings-banks,  alleging  that  it  was  an  insult  to  peo- 
ple to  tell  them  that  they  had  any  thing  to  save.  Yet 
the  extent  to  which  savings-banks  have  been  used,  even 
by  the  humblest  classes,  proves  that  he  was  as  much 
mistaken  in  this  as  he  was  in  many  of  the  views  which 
he  maintained.  There  are  thousands  of  persons  who 
would  probabl}''  never  have  thought  of  laying  by  a 
penny,  but  for  the  facility  of  the  savings-bank:  it  would 
have  seemed  so  useless  to  ivj.  The  small  hoard  in  the 
cupboard  was  too  ready  at  hand,  and  would  have  be- 
come dissipated  before  it  accumulated  to  any  amount; 
but  no  sooner  was  a  place  of  deposit  provided,  where 
sums  as  small  as  a  shilling  could  be  put  away,  than 
people  hastened  to  take  advantage  of  it. 

The  first  savings-bank  was  started  by  Miss  Priscilla 
Wakefield,  in  the  parish  of  Tottenham,  Middlesex,  to- 
ward the  close  of  last  century ;  her  object  being  main- 
ly to  stimulate  the  frugality  of  poor  children.  The  ex- 
periment proved  so  successful  that  in  1799  the  Rev.  Jo- 
seph Smith,  of  Wendon,  commenced  a  plan  of  receiving 
small  sums  from  his  parishioners  during  summer,  and 
returning  them  at  Christmas,  with  the  addition  of  one- 
third  as  a  stimulus  to  prudence  and  forethought.  Miss 
Wakefield,  in  her  turn,  followed  Mr.  Smith's  example, 
and  in  1804  extended  the  plan  of  her  charitable  bank, 
so  as  to  include  adult  laborers,  female  servants,  and 
others.  A  similar  institution  was  formed  at  Bath,  in 
1808,  by  several  ladies  of  that  city;  and  about  the 
same  time  Mr.  Whitbread  proposed  to  Parliament  the 
formation  of  a  national  institution,  "  in  the  nature  of  a 
bank,  for  the  use  and  advantage  of  the  laboring  classes 
alone ;"  but  nothing  came  of  his  proposal. 

It  was  not  until  the  Rev.  Henry  Duncan,  the  minis- 
ter of  Ruth  well,  a  poor  parish  in  Dumfriesshire,  took 
up  the  subject,  that  the  savings-bank  system  may  be 
said  to  have  become  fairly  inaugurated.     The  inhabit- 


CHAP,  viil]      Dr.  Duncan^  of  Ruthicell.  145 

ants  of  that  parish  were  mostly  poor  cottagers,  whose 
averaore  wasfes  did  not  amount  to  more  than  eicrht  shil- 
lings  a  week.  There  were  no  manufactures  in  the  dis- 
trict, nor  any  means  of  subsistence  for  the  population 
except  what  was  derived  from  the  land  under  cultiva- 
tion ;  and  the  land-owners  were  for  the  most  part  non- 
resident. It  seemed  a  very  unlikely  place  in  which  to 
establish  a  bank  for  savings,  where  the  poor  people 
were  already  obliged  to  strain  every  nerve  to  earn  a 
bare  living,  to  provide  the  means  of  educating  their 
children  (for,  however  small  his  income,  the  Scottish 
peasant  almost  invariably  contrives  to  save  something 
wherewith  to  send  his  children  to  school),  and  to  pay 
their  little  contributions  to  the  friendly  society  of  the 
parish.  Nevertheless,  the  minister  resolved,  as  a  help 
to  his  spiritual  instructions,  to  try  the  experiment. 

Xot  many  laboring  men  may  apprehend  the  deep  ar- 
guments of  the  religious  teacher ;  but  the  least  intelli- 
gent can  appreciate  a  bit  of  practical  advice  that  tells 
on  the  well-being  of  his  household  as  well  as  on  the  la- 
borer's own  daily  comfort  and  self-respect.  Dr.  Dun- 
can knew  that,  even  in  the  poorest  family,  there  were 
odds  and  ends  of  income  apt  to  be  frittered  away  in 
unnecessary  expenditure.  He  saw  some  thrifty  cotta- 
gers using  the  expedient  of  a  cow,  or  a  pig,  or  a  bit  of 
garden-ground,  as  a  savings-bank,  finding  their  return 
of  interest  in  the  shape  of  butter  and  milk,  winter's  ba- 
con, or  garden -produce;  and  it  occurred  to  him  that 
there  were  other  villagers,  single  men  and  young  wom- 
en, for  whom  some  analogous  mode  of  storing  away 
their  summer's  savings  might  be  provided,  and  a  fair 
rate  of  interest  returned  upon  their  little  investments. 

Hence  originated  the  parish  savings-bank  of  Kuth- 
well,  the  first  self-supporting  institution  of  the  kind  es- 
tablished in  this  country.  That  the  minister  was  not 
wrong  in  his  anticipations  was  proved  by  the  fact  that, 


146  Establishment  of  Savings-hanks.    [CHAP.  VIII. 

in  the  course  of  four  years,  the  funds  of  his  savings- 
bank  amounted  to  nearly  a  thousand  pounds.  And  if 
poor  villagers  out  of  eight  shillings  a  week,  and  female 
laborers  and  servants  out  of  much  less,  could  lay  aside 
this  sum,  what  might  not  mechanics,  artisans,  miners, 
and  iron- workers  accomplish,  who  earn  from  thirty  to 
fifty  shillings  a  week  all  the  year  round  ? 

The  example  set  by  Dr.  Duncan  was  followed  in 
many  towns  and  districts  in  England  and  Scotland. 
In  every  instance  the  model  of  the  Kuthwell  parish 
bank  was  followed;  and  the  self-sustaining  principle 
was  adopted.  The  savings-banks  thus  instituted  were 
not  eleemosynary  institutions,  nor  dependent  upon 
any  body's  charity  or  patronage;  but  their  success 
rested  entirely  with  the  depositors  themselves.  They 
encouraged  the  industrious  classes  to  rely  upon  their 
own  resources,  to  exercise  forethought  and  economy  in 
the  conduct  of  life,  to  cherish  self-respect  and  self- 
dependence,  and  to  provide  for  their  comfort  and 
maintenance  in  old  age,  by  the  careful  use  of  the 
products  of  their  industry,  instead  of  having  to  rely 
for  aid  upon  the  thankless  dole  of  a  begrudged  poor- 
rate. 

The  establishment  of  savings-banks  with  these  ob- 
jects at  length  began  to  be  recognized  as  a  matter 
of  national  concern;  and  in  1817  an  act  was  passed 
Avhich  served  to  increase  their  number  and  extend 
their  usefulness.  Various  measures  have  since  been 
adopted  with  the  object  of  increasing  their  efficiency 
and  security.  But  notwithstanding  the  great  good 
Avhich  these  institutions  have  accomplished,  it  is  still 
obvious  that  the  better -paid  classes  of  work-people 
avail  themselves  of  them  to  only  a  very  limited  extent. 
A  very  small  portion  of  the  four  hundred  millions  es- 
timated to  be  annually  earned  by  the  working-classes 
finds  its  way  to  the  savings-bank,  while  at  least  twenty 


CHAP.  VIII.]  Glasses  of  Bejwsitors.  147 

times  the  amount  is  spent  annually  at  the  beer -shop 
and  the  public-house. 

It  is  not  the  highly  paid  class  of  working  men  and 
women  who  invest  money  in  the  savings-banks,  but 
those  who  earn  comparatively  moderate  incomes.  Thus 
the  most  numerous  class  of  depositors  in  the  Manches- 
ter and  Salford  Savings-bank  is  that  of  domestic  serv- 
ants. After  them  rank  clerks,  shop-men,  porters,  and 
minors.  Only  about  a  third  part  of  the  deposits  be- 
long to  the  operatives,  artisans,  and  mechanics.  It  is 
the  same  in  manufacturing  districts  generally.  A  few 
years  since,  it  was  found  that  of  the  numerous  female 
depositors  at  Dundee  only  one  was  a  factory  worker : 
the  rest  were  for  the  most  part  servants. 

There  is  another  fact  that  is  remarkable.  The  habit 
of  saving  does  not  so  much  prevail  in  those  counties 
where  wages  are  the  highest  as  in  those  counties 
Avhere  wages  are  the  lowest.  Previous  to  the  era  of 
post-office  savings-banks,  the  inhabitants  of  Wilts  and 
Dorset — where  wages  are  about  the  lowest  in  England 
— deposited  more  money  in  the  savings-banks,  per  head 
of  the  population,  than  they  did  in  Lancashire  and 
Yorkshire,  Avhere  wages  are  about  the  highest  in  En- 
gland. Taking  Yorkshire  itself,  and  dividing  it  into 
manufacturing  and  agricultural,  the  manufacturing  in- 
habitants of  the  West  Riding  of  York  invested  about 
twenty-live  shillings  per  head  of  the  population  in  the 
savings-banks;  while  the  agricultural  population  of  the 
East  Riding  invested  about  three  times  that  amount. 

Private  soldiers  are  paid  much  less  wages  per  week 
than  the  lowest-paid  workmen,  and  yet  they  put  more 
money  in  the  savings-banks  than  workmen  who  are 
paid  from  thirty  to  forty  shillings  a  week.  Soldiers 
are  generally  supposed  to  be  a  particularly  thoughtless 
class.  Indeed,  they  are  sometimes  held  up  to  odium 
as  reckless   and  dissolute;  but  the  military  savings- 


148  Magic  of  Drill.  [chap.  viii. 

bank  returns  refute  the  vilification,  and  prove  that  the 
British  soldier  is  as  sober,  well-disciplined,  and  frugal 
as  we  already  know  him  to  be  brave.  Most  people 
forget  that  the  soldier  must  be  obedient,  sober,  and 
honest.  If  he  is  a  drunkard,  he  is  punished ;  if  he  is 
dishonest,  he  is  drummed  out  of  the  regiment. 

Wonderful  is  the  magic  of  Drill !  Drill  means  dis- 
cipline, training,  education.  The  first  drill  of  every 
people  is  military.  It  has  been  the  first  education  of 
nations.  The  duty  of  obedience  is  thus  taught  on  a 
large  scale  —  submission  to  authority;  united  action 
under  a  common  head.  These  soldiers — who  are  ready 
to  march  steadily  against  voUied  fire,  against  belching 
cannon,  up  fortress  heights,  or  to  beat  their  heads 
against  bristling  bayonets,  as  they  did  at  Badajos — 
were  once  tailors,  shoe -makers,  mechanics,  delvers, 
weavers,  and  plowmen  ;  with  mouths  gaping,  shoulders 
stooping,  feet  straggling,  arms  and  hands  like  great 
fins  hanging  by  their  sides;  but  now  their  gait  is  firm 
and  martial,  their  figures  are  erect,  and  they  march 
along,  to  the  sound  of  music,  with  a  tread  that  makes 
the  earth  shake.     Such  is  the  wonderful  power  of  drill. 

Nations,  as  they  become  civilized,  adopt  other  meth- 
ods of  discipline.  The  drill  becomes  industrial.  Con- 
quest and  destruction  give  place  to  production  in  many 
forms.  And  what  trophies  Industry  has  won,  what 
skill  has  it  exercised,  what  labors  has  it  performed ! 
Every  industrial  process  is  performed  by  drilled  bands 
of  artisans.  Go  into  Yorkshire  and  Lancashire,  and 
you  will  find  armies  of  drilled  laborers  at  work,  where 
the  discipline  is  perfect,  and  the  results,  as  regards  the 
amount  of  manufactured  productions  turned  out  of 
liand,  are  prodigious. 

On  efficient  drilling  and  discipline  men's  success  as 
individuals,  and  as  societies,  entirely  depends.  The 
most  self-dependent  man  is  under  discipline ;  and  the 


CHAP,  yill.]        Military  Savings-hanlcs.  149 

more  perfect  the  discipline,  the  more  complete  his  con- 
dition. A  man  must  drill  his  desires,  and  keep  them 
under  subjection  ;  he  must  obey  the  word  of  command, 
otherwise  he  is  the  sport  of  passion  and  impulse.  The 
religious  man's  life  is  full  of  discipline  and  self-restraint. 
The  man  of  business  is  entirely  subject  to  system  and 
rule.  The  happiest  home  is  that  where  the  discipline  is 
the  most  perfect,  and  yet  where  it  is  the  least  felt.  AYe 
at  length  become  subject  to  it  as  to  a  law  of  nature, 
and  while  it  binds  us  firmly,  yet  we  feel  it  net.  The 
force  of  habit  is  but  the  force  of  drill. 

One  dare  scarcely  hint,  in  these  days,  at  the  necessity 
for  compulsory  conscri23tion ;  and  yet,  w' ere  the  people 
at  large  compelled  to  pass  through  the  discipline  of 
the  army,  the  country  would  be  strongej*,  the  people 
would  be  soberer,  and  thrift  would  become  much  more 
habitual  than  it  is  at  present. 

Military  savings-banks  were  first  suggested  by  Pay- 
master Fairfowl,  in  1816;  and  about  ten  years  later 
the  question  was  again  raised  by  Colonel  Oglander,  of 
the  Twenty-sixth  Foot  (Cameronians).  The  subject 
was  brought  under  the  notice  of  the  late  Duke  of 
Wellington,  and  negatived;  the  duke  making  the  fol- 
lowing memorandum  on  the  subject :  "  There  is  nothing 
that  I  know  of  to  prevent  a  soldier,  equally  with  others 
of  his  majesty's  subjects,  from  investing  his  money  in 
savings-banks.  If  there  be  any  impediment,  it  should 
be  taken  away ;  but  I  doubt  the  expediency  of  going 
further." 

The  idea,  however,  seems  to  liave  occurred  to  the 
duke,  tliat  the  proposal  to  facilitate  tlie  saving  of  mon- 
ey by  private  soldiers  might  be  turned  to  account  in 
the  way  of  a  reduction  in  the  army  expenditure,  and 
he  characteristically  added:  "Has  a  soldier  more  pay 
than  he  requires  ?  If  he  has,  it  should  be  lowered,  not 
to  those  now  in  the  service,  but  to  those  enlisted  here- 


150  Savings  of  Soldiers.  [CHAP.  vili. 

after."  No  one,  however,  could  allege  that  the  pay 
of  the  private  soldier  was  excessive,  and  it  was  not 
likely  that  any  proposal  to  lower  it  would  be  enter- 
tained. 

The  subject  of  savings-banks  for  the  army  Avas  al- 
lowed to  rest  for  a  time,  but,  by  the  assistance  of  Sir 
James  M'Gregor  and  Lord  Howick,  a  scheme  was  at 
length  approved  and  finally  established  in  1842.  The 
result  has  proved  satisfactory  in  an  eminent  degree, 
and  speaks  well  for  the  character  of  the  British  soldier. 
It  appears  from  a  paper  presented  to  the  House  of 
Commons  some  years  ago,  giving  the  details  of  the 
savings  effected  by  the  respective  corps,  that  the  men 
of  the  Royal  Artillery  had  saved  over  twenty -three 
thousand  pounds,  or  an  average  of  sixteen  pounds  to 
each  depositor.  These  savings  Avere  made  out  of  a 
daily  pay  of  one  and  threepence,  and  a  penny  for  beer- 
money,  or  equal  to  about  nine  and  sixpence  a  week, 
subject  to  sundry  deductions  for  extra  clothing.  Again, 
the  men  of  the  Royal  Engineers — mostly  drawn  from 
the  skilled  mechanical  class — had  saved  nearly  twelve 
thousand  pounds,  or  an  average  of  about  twenty  pounds 
for  each  depositor.  The  Twenty-sixth  Regiment  of  the 
line  (Cameronians),  whose  pay  is  a  shilling  a  day  and  a 
penny  for  beer,  saved  over  four  thousand  pounds.  Two 
hundred  and  fifty  men  of  the  first  battalion,  or  one-third 
of  the  corps,  were  depositors  in  the  savings-bank,  and 
their  savings  amounted  to  about  seventeen  pounds  per 
man. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Private  soldiers,  out  of  their 
small  earnings,  are  accustomed  to  remit  considerable 
sums  through  the  post-office  to  their  poor  relations  at 
home.  In  one  year,  twenty-two  thousand  pounds  w^ere 
thus  sent  from  Aldershot — the  average  amount  of  each 
money-order  being  twenty-one  shillings  and  fourpence. 
And  if  men  with  seven  shillings  and  sevenpence  a  week 


CHAP,  yiil]  Soldiers  Abroad.  151 

can  do  so  much,  what  might  not  skilled  workmen  do, 
whose  earnings  amount  to  from  two  to  three  pounds  a 
week? 

Soldiers  serving  abroad  during  arduous  campaigns 
Iiave  proved  themselves  to  he  equally  thoughtful  and 
provident.  During  the  war  in  the  Crimea,  the  soldiers 
and  seamen  sent  home  through  the  money-order  office 
seventy -one  thousand  pounds,  and  the  army  works 
corps  thirty-five  thousand  pounds.  More  than  a  year 
before  the  money-order  system  was  introduced  at  Scu- 
tari, Miss  Nightingale  took  charge  of  the  soldiers'  sav- 
ings. She  found  them  most  willing  to  abridge  their 
own  comforts  or  indulgences,  for  the  sake  of  others 
dear  to  them,  as  well  as  for  their  own  future  well-be- 
ing; and  she  devoted  an  afternoon  in  every  week  to 
veceivinor  and  forwarding  their  savini^s  to  Enirland. 
She  remitted  many  thousand  pounds  in  this  manner, 
and  it  was  distributed  by  a  friend  in  London — much 
of  it  to  the  remotest  corners  of  Scotland  and  Ireland. 
And  it  afforded  some  evidence  that  the  seed  fell  in 
good  places  (as  well  as  of  the  punctuality  of  the  post- 
office),  that  of  the  whole  number  of  remittances  all  but 
one  were  duly  acknowledged. 

Again,  there  is  not  a  regiment  returning  from  India 
but  brincjs  home  with  it  a  store  of  savin fjs.  In  the 
year  18G0,  after  the  Indian  Mutiny,  more  than  twenty 
thousand  pounds  were  remitted  on  account  of  invalided 
men  sent  back  to  England ;  besides  which  there  were 
eight  regiments  which  brought  home  balances  to  their 
credits  in  the  regimental  banks  amounting  to  £40,499.* 
The  liighest  was  the  Eighty -fourth,  whose  savings 
amounted  to  £9718.     The  Seventy-eighth  (Ross-shire 

*  Tlie  sums  sent  home  by  soldiers  serving  in  India  for  tlie  benefit 
of  friends  and  relatives  are  not  included  in  tliese  amounts,  the  remit- 
tances being  made  direct  by  the  pay-masters  of  regiments,  and  not 
through  the  savings-banks. 


152  Deposits  in  Savings-hanks.      [CHAP.  viil. 

BiifFs),  the  heroes  who  followed  Ilavelock  in  his  march 
on  Lucknow,  saved  £6480;  and  the  gallant  Thirty- 
second,  who  held  Lucknow  under  Inglis,  saved  £5263. 
The  Eighty-sixth,  the  first  battalion  of  the  Tenth,  and 
the  Ninth  Dragoons,  all  brought  home  an  amount  of 
savings  indicative  of  providence  and  forethought,  which 
reflected  the  highest  honor  upon  them  as  men  as  well 
as  soldiers.* 

And  yet  the  private  soldiers  do  not  deposit  all  their 
savings  in  tlie  military  savings-banks,  especially  when 
they  can  obtain  access  to  an  ordinary  savings-bank. 
We  are  informed  that  many  of  the  household  troops 
stationed  in  London  deposit  their  spare  money  in  the 
savings-banks  rather  than  in  the  regimental  banks; 
and  when  the  question  was  on  a  recent  occasion  asked 
as  to  the  cause,  the  answer  given  was,  "  I  would  not 
liave  my  sergeant  know  that  I  was  saving  money." 
But  in  addition  to  this,  the  private  soldier  would  rath- 
er that  his  comrades  did  not  know  that  he  was  sav- 
ing money ;  for  the  thriftless  soldier,  like  the  thriftless 
workman,  when  he  has  spent  every  thing  of  his  own,  is 
A^ery  apt  to  set  up  a  kind  of  right  to  borrow  from  the 
fund  of  his  more  thrifty  comrade. 

The  same  feeling  of  suspicion  frequently  prevents 
workmen  dej^ositing  money  in  the  ordinary  savings- 
bank.  They  do  not  like  it  to  be  known  to  their  em- 
ployers that  they  are  saving  money,  being  under  the 
impression  that  it  might  lead  to  attempts  to  lower 
their  wages.  A  working-man  in  a  town  in  Yorkshire, 
who  had  determined  to  make  a  deposit  in  the  savings- 
bank,  of  which  his  master  was  a  director,  went  repeat- 
edly to  watch  at  the  door  of  the  bank  before  he  could 
ascertain  that  his  master  was  absent ;  and  he  only  paid 

*  The  amonnt  of  the  fund  for  militavv  savings-banks  on  the  20th 
of  INIavch,  1874,  was  £300,009. 


CHAP,  yiil]  Savings  at  Bilston.  158 

in  his  money,  after  several  weeks'  waiting,  when  he  had 
assured  himself  of  this  fact. 

The  miners  at  Bilston,  at  least  such  of  thcra  as  put 
money  in  the  savings-bank,  were  accustomed  to  deposit 
it  in  other  names  than  their  own.  Nor  were  they  with- 
out reason.  For  some  of  their  employers  were  actually 
opposed  to  the  institution  of  savings-banks,  fearing  lest 
the  workmen  might  apply  their  savings  to  their  main- 
tenance during  a  turnout ;  not  reflecting  that  they  have 
the  best  guarantee  of  the  steadiness  of  this  class  of 
men  in  their  deposits  at  the  savings-bank.  Mr.  Baker, 
Inspector  of  Factories,  has  said  that  "  the  supreme  fol- 
ly of  a  strike  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  there  is  seldom 
or  ever  a  rich  workman  at  the  head  of  it." 

A  magistrate  at  Bilston,  not  connected  with  the  em- 
ployment of  workmen,  has  mentioned  the  following 
case :  "  I  prevailed,"  he  says,  "  upon  a  workman  to  be- 
gin a  deposit  in  the  savings-bank.  He  came  most  un- 
willingly. His  deposits  were  small,  although  I  knew 
his  gains  to  be  great.  I  encouraged  him  by  expressing 
satisfjiction  at  the  course  he  was  taking.  His  deposits 
became  greater;  and  at  the  end  of  five  years  he  drew 
out  the  fund  he  had  accumulated,  bought  a  piece  of 
land,  and  has  built  a  house  upon  it.  I  think  if  I  had 
not  spoken  to  him,  the  whole  amount  Avould  have  been 
spent  in  feasting,  or  clubs,  or  contributions  to  the 
trades-unions.  That  man's  eyes  are  now  open ;  liis  so- 
cial position  is  raised ;  lie  sees  and  feels  as  we  do,  and 
will  influence  others  to  follow  his  example." 

From  what  we  have  said,  it  will  be  obvious  that 
there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  ability  of  a  large  pro- 
portion of  the  better-paid  classes  of  working-men  to 
lay  by  a  store  of  savings.  When  they  set  their  minds 
upon  any  object,  they  have  no  difliculty  in  finding  the 
requisite  money.  A  single  town  in  Lancashire  contrib- 
uted thirty  thousand  pounds  to  support  their  fellow-' 


15-i  Savings  of  Worldng-men.       [CHAP.  vill. 

workmen  when  on  strike  in  an  adjoining  town.  At  a 
time  when  there  are  no  strikes,  why  should  they  not 
save  as  much  money  on  their  own  account  for  their 
own  permanent  comfort  ?  Many  workmen  already  save 
with  this  object ;  and  what  they  do,  all  might  do.  We 
know  of  one  large  mechanical  establishment,  situated 
in  an  agricultural  district,  where  the  temptations  to 
useless  expenditure  are  few,  in  which  nearly  all  the  men 
are  habitual  economists,  and  have  saved  sums  varying 
from  two  hundred  to  five  hundred  pounds  each. 

Many  factory  operatives,  with  their  families,  might 
easily  lay  by  from  five  to  ten  shillings  a  week,  which  in 
a  few  years  would  amount  to  considerable  sums.  At 
Darwen,  only  a  short  time  ago,  an  operative  drew  his 
savings  out  of  the  bank  to  purchase  a  row  of  cottages, 
now  become  his  property.  Many  others,  in  the  same 
place,  and  in  the  neighboring  towns,  are  engaged  in 
building  cottages  for  themselves,  some  by  means  of 
their  contributions  to  building  societies,  and  others  by 
means  of  their  savings  accumulated  in  the  bank. 

A  respectably  dressed  working-man,  when  making  a 
payment  one  day  at  the  Bradford  Savings-bank,  which 
brought  his  account  up  to  nearly  eighty  pounds,  in- 
formed the  manager  how  it  was  that  he  had  been  in- 
duced to  become  a  depositor.  He  had  been  a  drinker ; 
but  one  day  accidentally  finding  his  wife's  savings-bank 
deposit-book,  from  which  he  learned  that  she  had  laid 
by  about  twenty  pounds,  he  said  to  himself,  "  Well, 
now,  if  this  can  be  done  while  I  am  spending,  what 
might  we  do  if  both  were  saving?"  The  man  gave  up 
his  drinking,  and  became  one  of  the  most  respectable 
persons  of  his  class.  "  I  owe  it  all,"  he  said,  "  to  my 
wife  and  the  savings-bank." 

When  w^ell-paid  workmen  such  as  these  are  able  to 
accumulate  a  sufiicient  store  of  savings,  they  ought 
gradually  to  give  up  hard  work,  and  remove  from  the 


CHAP.  VIII.]  Penny  Banks.  155 

field  of  competition  as  old  age  comes  upon  them. 
They  ought  also  to  give  place  to  younger  men ;  and 
prevent  themselves  being  beaten  down  into  the  low- 
er-paid ranks  of  labor.  After  sixty  a  man's  physical 
powers  fail  him;  and  by  that  time  he  ought  to  have 
made  provision  for  his  independent  maintenance.  Nor 
are  the  instances  by  any  means  uncommon  of  work- 
men laying  by  money  with  this  object,  and  thereby 
proving  wliat  the  whole  class  might,  to  a  greater  or 
less  extent,  accomplish  in  the  same  direction. 

The  extent  to  which  penny  banks  have  been  used 
by  the  very  poorest  classes,  wherever  started,  affords  a 
striking  illustration  of  how  much  may  be  done  by  mere- 
ly providing  increased  opportunities  for  the  practice  of 
thrift.  The  first  penny  bank  was  started  in  Greenock, 
about  thirty  years  since,  as  an  auxiliary  to  the  sav- 
ings-bank. The  object  of  the  projector  (Mr.  J.M.  Scott) 
was  to  enable  poor  persons,  whose  savings  amounted 
to  less  than  a  shilling  (the  savings-bank  minimum)  to 
deposit  them  in  a  safe  j^lace.  In  one  year  about  five 
thousand  depositors  placed  one  thousand  five  hundred 
and  eighty  pounds  with  the  Greenock  institution.  The 
estimable  Mr.  Queckett,  a  curate  in  the  east  end  of 
London,  next  opened  a  penny  bank,  and  the  results 
were  very  remarkable.  In  one  year  as  many  as  four- 
teen thousand  five  hundred  and  thirteen  deposits  were 
made  in  the  bank.  The  number  of  depositors  was  lim- 
ited to  two  thousand  ;  and  the  demand  for  admission 
was  so  great  that  there  were  usually  many  waiting  un- 
til vacancies  occurred. 

"Some  save  for  their  rent,"  said  Mr.  Queckett;  "oth- 
ers for  clothes  and  apprenticing  their  children ;  and 
various  are  the  little  objects  to  which  the  savings  are 
to  be  applied.  Every  repayment  passes  through  my 
own  .hands,  which  gives  an  opportunity  of  hearing  of 
sickness,  or  sorrow,  or  any  other  cause  which  compels 


156  Charles  W.  Sikes.  [CHAP.  VIII. 


the  withdrawal  of  the  little  fund.  It  is,  besides,  a  feed- 
er to  the  larger  savings-banks,  to  which  many  are  turn- 
ed over  when  the  weekly  payments  tendered  exceed 
the  usual  sum.  Many  of  those  who  could  at  first  scarce- 
ly advance  beyond  a  penny  a  week  can  now  deposit  a 
silver  coin  of  some  kind." 

Never  was  the  moral  influence  of  the  parish  clergy- 
man more  wisely  employed  than  in  this  case.  Not 
many  of  those  whom  Mr.  Queckett  thus  labored  to 
serve  were  among  the  church-going  class;  but  by 
helping  them  to  be  frugal,  and  improving  their  phys- 
ical condition,  he  was  enabled  gradually  to  elevate 
their  social  tastes,  and  to  awaken  in  them  a  religious 
life  to  which  the  greater  number  of  them  had  before 
been  strangers. 

A  powerful  influence  was  next  given  to  the  move- 
ment by  Mr.  Charles  W.  Sikes,  cashier  of  the  Hudders- 
field  Banking  Company,  who  advocated  their  estab- 
lishment in  connection  with  the  extensive  organization 
of  mechanics'  institutes.  It  appeared  to  him  that  to 
train  working-people  w^hen  young  in  habits  of  econo- 
my, was  of  more  practical  value  to  themselves,  and  of 
greater  importance  to  society,  than  to  fill  their  minds 
Avith  the  contents  of  many  books.  He  pointed  to  the 
perverted  use  of  money  by  tbe  working-class  as  one 
of  the  greatest  practical  evils  of  the  time.  "  In  many 
cases,"  he  said,  "  the  higher  the  workmen's  wages,  the 
poorer  are  their  families ;  and  these  are  they  who 
really  form  the  discontented  and  the  dangerous  classes. 
IIow  can  such  persons  take  any  interest  in  pure  and 
elevating  knowledge?" 

To  show  the  thriftlessness  of  the  people,  Mr.  Sikes 
mentioned  the  following  instance :  "  An  eminent  em- 
ployer in  the  West  Riding,"  he  said,  "  whose  mills  for 
a  quarter  of  a  century  have  scarcely  run  short  time 
for  a  single  week,  lias  within  a  few  da3-s  examined  the 


CHAP.  VIII.]     Mechanics'  Institute  Banks.  157 

rate  of  wages  now  paid  to  his  men,  and  compared  it 
with  that  of  a  few  years  ago.  He  had  the  pleasure  of 
finding  that  improvements  in  machinery  had  led  to 
improvement  in  wages.  His  spinners  and  weavers  arc 
making  about  twenty-seven  shillings  a  week.  In  many 
instances  some  of  their  children  work  at  the  same  mill, 
and  in  a  few  instances  their  wives,  and  often  the  fam- 
ily income  reaches  from  a  hundred  to  a  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  per  annum.  Visiting  the  homes  of  some 
of  these  men,  he  has  seen  with  feelings  of  disappoint- 
ment the  air  of  utter  discomfort  and  squalor  with 
which  many  are  pervaded.  Increase  of  income  has  led 
only  to  increase  of  improvidence.  The  savings-bank 
and  the  building  society  are  equally  neglected,  al- 
tliough  at  the  same  mill  there  are  some  with  no  higher 
wages,  whose  homes  have  every  comfort,  and  who  have 
quite  a  little  competency  laid  by.  In  Bradford,  I  be- 
lieve, a  munificent  employer  on  one  occasion  opened 
seven  hundred  accounts  with  the  savings-bank  for  his 
operatives,  paying  in  a  small  deposit  for  each.  The 
result  was  not  encouraging.  Rapidly  was  a  small 
portion  of  the  sums  drawn  out,  and  very  few  remained 
as  the  nucleus  of  further  deposits.""^ 

Mr.  Sikes  suggested  that  each  mechanics'  institute 
should  appoint  a  preliminary  savings-bank  committee, 
to  attend  once  a  week  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  de- 
posits from  the  members  and  others. 

"If  a  committee  at  each  institution,"  he  said,  "  were 
to  adopt  this  course,  taking  an  interest  in  their  humble 
circumstances,  and,  in  a  sympathizing  and  kindly  spirit, 
to  suggest,  invite,  nay  win  them  over,  not  only  by  read- 
ing the  lesson,  but  forming  the  habit  of  true  economy 
and  self-reliance  (the  noblest  lessons  for  which  classes 


*  From   Mr.   Sikes's  excellent   little  hand-book,  entitled    *'Good 
Times;  or,  The  Savings-bank  and  the  Fireside." 


158  The  Poor  Mans  Parse.        [CHAP.  viil. 

could  be  formed),  how  cheering  would  be  the  results  ! 
Once  established  in  better  habits,  their  feet  firmly  set 
in  the  path  of  self-reliance,  how  generally  would  young 
men  grow  up  with  the  practical  conviction  that  to  their 
own  advancing  intelligence  and  virtues  must  they 
mainly  look  to  work  out  their  own  social  welfare !" 

This  admirable  advice  was  not  lost.  One  institu- 
tion after  another  embraced  the  plan,  and  preliminary 
savings-banks  were  shortly  established  in  connection 
with  the  principal  mechanics'  institutes  throughout 
Yorkshire.  Those  established  at  Huddersfield,  Hali- 
fax, Bradford,  Leeds,  and  York  were  exceedingly  suc- 
cessful. The  penny  banks  established  at  Halifax  con- 
sisted of  a  central  bank  and  seven  subordinate  branches. 
The  number  of  members,  and  the  average  amount  of 
the  sums  deposited  with  them,  continued  to  increase 
from  year  to  year.  Fourteen  penny  banks  were  es- 
tablished at  Bradford:  and  after  the  depositors  had 
formed  the  habit  of  saving  in  the  smaller  banks,  they 
transferred  them  in  bulk  to  the  ordinary  savings- 
bank. 

Thirty- six  penny  banks  were  established  in  and 
around  Glasgow.  The  committee,  in  their  report, 
stated  that  they  were  calculated  "  to  check  that  reck- 
less expenditure  of  little  sums  which  so  often  leads  to 
a  confirmed  habit  of  wastefulness  and  improvidence ;" 
and  they  urged  the  support  of  the  penny  banks  as  the 
best  means  of  extending  the  usefulness  of  the  savings- 
banks.  The  penny  bank  established  at  the  small  coun- 
try town  of  Farnham  is  estimated  to  have  contributed 
within  a  few  years  a  hundred  and  fifty  regular  depos- 
itors to  the  savings-bank  of  the  same  place.  The  fact 
that  as  large  a  proportion  as  two-thirds  of  the  whole 
amount  deposited  is  drawn  out  within  the  year  shows 
that  penny  banks  are  principally  used  as  places  of  safe 
deposit  for  very  small  sums  of  money,  until  they  are 


CHAP.  VIII.]      Depositors  in  Penny  Banks.  159 

wanted  for  some  special  object,  such  as  rent,  clothes, 
furniture,  the  doctor's  bill,  and  such-like  purposes. 

Thus  the  penny  bank  is  emphatically  the  poor  man's 
purse.  The  great  mass  of  the  deposits  are  paid  in 
sums  not  exceeding  sixpence,  and  the  average  of  the 
whole  does  not  exceed  a  shilling.  The  depositors  con- 
sist of  the  very  humblest  members  of  the  working- 
class,  and  by  far  the  greatest  number  of  them  have 
never  before  been  accustomed  to  lay  by  any  portion 
of  their  earnings.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Clarke,  of  Derby,  who 
took  an  active  interest  in  the  extension  of  these  use- 
ful institutions,  has  stated  that  one-tenth  of  the  whole 
amount  received  by  the  Derby  penny  bank  was  depos- 
ited in  copper  money,  and  a  large  portion  of  the  re- 
mainder in  threepenny  and  fourpenny  pieces. 

It  is  clear,  therefore,  that  the  penny  bank  reaches  a 
class  of  persons  of  very  small  means,  whose  ability  to 
save  is  much  less  than  that  of  the  highly  paid  work- 
man, and  who,  if  the  money  were  left  in  their  pockets, 
would  in  most  cases  spend  it  in  the  nearest  public- 
house.  Hence,  when  a  penny  bank  was  established  at 
Putney,  and  the  deposits  were  added  up  at  tlie  end 
of  the  first  year,  a  brewer,  who  was  on  the  committee, 
made  the  remark,  "  Well,  that  represents  thirty  thou- 
sand pints  of  beer  7iot  drunlc,'''' 

At  one  of  the  penny  banks  in  Yorkshire,  an  old 
man  in  receipt  of  parish  outdoor  relief  was  found  using 
the  penny  bank  as  a  place  of  deposit  for  his  pennies 
until  he  had  accumulated  enough  to  buy  a  coat.  Oth- 
ers save  to  buy  an  eight-day  clock,  or  a  musical  instru- 
ment, or  for  a  railway  trip. 

But  the  principal  supporters  of  the  penny  banks  are 
boys,  and  this  is  their  most  hopeful  feature ;  for  it  is 
out  of  boys  that  men  are  made.  At  Iluddersfield 
many  of  the  lads  go  in  bands  from  the  mills  to  the 
penny  banks;  emulation  as  well  as  example  urging 


160  Influence  of  Penny  Banks.     [CHAP.Vlir. 

them  on.  They  save  for  various  purposes — one  to  buy 
a  chest  of  tools ;  another,  a  watch  ;  a  third,  a  grammar 
or  a  dictionary. 

One  evening  a  boy  presented  himself  to  draw  one 
pound  ten  shillings.  According  to  the  rules  of  the 
penny  bank,  a  week's  notice  must  be  given  before  any 
sum  exceeding  twenty  shillings  can  be  withdrawn,  and 
the  cashier  demurred  to  making  the  payment.  "  Well," 
said  the  boy,  "the  reason's  this:  mother  can't  pay  her 
rent ;  I'm  goin'  to  pay  it,  for,  as  long  as  I  have  owt, 
she  shall  hev'  it."  In  another  case,  a  youth  drew 
twenty  pounds  to  buy  off  his  brother  who  had  enlist- 
ed. "  Mother  frets  so,"  said  the  lad,  "  that  she'll  break 
her  heart  if  he  isn't  bought  off;  and  I  can  not  bear 
that." 

Thus  these  institutions  give  help  and  strength  in 
many  ways,  and,  besides  enabling  young  people  to 
keep  out  of  debt  and  honestly  to  pay  their  way,  furnish 
them  with  the  means  of  performing  kindly  and  gener- 
ous acts  in  times  of  family  trial  and  emergency.  It  is 
an  admirable  feature  of  the  ragged  schools  that  almost 
every  one  of  them  has  a  penny  bank  connected  with  it, 
for  the  purpose  of  training  the  scholars  in  good  hab- 
its, which  they  most  need ;  and  it  is  a  remarkable  fact 
that  in  one  year  not  less  than  £8880  was  deposited,  in 
25,637  sums,  by  the  scholars  connected  with  the  Rag- 
ged-school Union.  And  when  this  can  be  done  by 
the  poor  boys  of  the  ragged  schools,  what  might  not 
be  accomplished  by  the  highly  paid  operatives  and 
mechanics  of  England  ? 

But  another  capital  feature  in  the  working  of  pen- 
ny banks,  as  regards  the  cultivation  of  prudent  habits 
among  the  people,  is  the  circumstance  that  the  example 
of  boys  and  girls  depositing  their  spare  weekly  pennies 
has  often  the  effect  of  drawing  their  parents  after 
them.     A  boy  goes  on  for  weeks  paying  his  pence,  and 


CHAP.  VIII.]        Bradford  Savings-hank.  161 

taking  home  liis  pass-book.  The  book  shows  that  he 
has  a  "ledger  folio"  at  the  bank  expressly  devoted  to 
him ;  that  his  pennies  are  all  duly  entered,  together 
with  the  respective  dates  of  their  deposits ;  that  these 
savings  are  not  lying  idle,  but  bear  interest  at  two  and 
a  half  per  cent,  per  annum,  and  that  he  can  have  them 
restored  to  him  at  any  time,  if  under  twenty  shillings, 
without  notice;  and  if  above  twenty  shillings,  then 
after  a  week's  notice  has  been  given. 

The  book  is  a  little  history  in  itself,  and  can  not  fail 
to  be  interesting  to  the  boy's  brothers  and  sisters,  as 
well  as  to  his  parents.  They  call  him  "good  lad,"  and 
they  see  he  is  a  well-conducted  lad.  The  father,  if  he 
is  a  sensible  man,  naturally  bethinks  him  that  if  his 
boy  can  do  so  creditable  a  thing,  worthy  of  praise,  so 
might  he  himself  Accordingly,  on  the  next  Saturday 
night,  when  the  boy  goes  to  deposit  his  threepence  at 
tlie  penny  bank,  the  father  often  sends  his  shilling. 

Til  us  a  good  beginning  is  often  made,  and  a  habit 
initiated,  which,  if  persevered  in,  very  shortly  exercises 
a  most  salutary  influence  on  the  entire  domestic  con- 
dition of  the  family.  The  observant  mother  is  quick 
to  observe  the  efi*ects  of  this  new  practice  upon  the 
happiness  of  the  home ;  and  in  course  of  time,  as  the 
j'ounger  children  grow  up  and  earn  money,  she  en- 
courages them  to  follow  the  elder  boy's  example.  She 
herself  takes  them  by  the  hand,  leads  them  to  the  pen- 
ny bank,  and  accustoms  them  to  invest  their  savings 
there.  Women  have  even  more  influence  in  such  mat- 
ters than  men  ;  and  where  they  do  exercise  it,  the  bene- 
flcial  eff*ects  are  much  more  lasting. 

One  evening,  a  strong,  muscular  mechanic  appeared 
at  the  Bradford  Savings-bank  in  his  working-dress, 
bringing  with  him  three  children,  one  of  them  in  his 
arms.  lie  placed  on  the  counter  their  deposit-books, 
which   his  wife   liad  previously  been    accustomed  to 


162  Influence  of  Women.  [chap.  Vlll. 

present,  together  with  ten  shillings,  to  be  equally  ap- 
portioned among  the  three.  Pressing  to  his  bosom  the 
child  in  his  arms,  the  man  said,  "  Poor  things !  they 
have  lost  their  mother  since  they  were  here  last ;  but 
I  must  do  the  best  I  can  for  them."  And  he  continued 
the  good  lesson  to  his  children  which  his  wife  had  be- 
gun, bringing  them  with  him  each  time  to  see  their  lit- 
tle deposits  made. 

There  is  an  old  English  proverb  which  says,  "He 
that  would  thrive  must  first  ask  his  wife;"  but  the 
wife  must  not  only  let  her  husband  thrive,  but  helj) 
him,  otherwise  she  is  not  the  "  helpmeet "  which  is  as 
needful  for  the  domestic  comfort  and  satisfaction  of 
the  working-man,  as  of  every  other  man  who  under- 
takes the  responsibility  of  a  family.  Women  form  the 
moral  atmosphere  in  which  we  grow  when  children ; 
and  they  have  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  life  we  lead 
when  we  become  men.  It  is  true  that  the  men  may 
hold  the  reins ;  but  it  is  generally  the  women  who  tell 
them  which  way  to  drive.  What  Rousseau  said  is  very 
near  the  truth:  "Men  will  always  be  what  women 
make  them." 

Not  long  ago,  Mr.  Sikes  encountered  in  a  second- 
class  carriage  a  well-dressed  workman  traveling  from 
Sheffield  to  Glasgow,  during  holiday  times,  to  see  his 
mother.  "  I  am  glad,"  said  Mr.  Sikes, "  to  find  a  work- 
man traveling  so  great  a  distance  for  a  purpose  like 
that."  "Yes,"  said  the  man,  "and  I  am  glad  to  say 
that  I  can  afibrd  to  do  it."  "And  do  many  of  the 
workmen  employed  in  your  workshop  save  money?" 
asked  Mr.  Sikes.  "No,"  said  the  other,  "not  more 
than  about  two  in  the  hundred.  The  spare  earnings 
of  the  others  go,  not  to  the  savings-banks,  but  to  the 
drink-shops."  "And  when  did  you  begin  to  save?" 
"When  I  was  no  bigger  than  that^''  indicating  the 
height  of  a  little  boy :  "  the  first  money  I  saved  was 


CHAP.  VIII.]       Early  Lessons  in  Thrift.  163 

in  a  penny  bank,  and  I  have   gone  on  saving   ever 
since." 

Such  being  the  influence  of  early  practice  and  ex- 
ample, we  are  glad  to  find  that  Economy  is  now  being 
taught  at  public  schools.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Crallan,  of  the 
Sussex  County  Asylum,  has  long  taught  lessons  of  thrift 
to  poor  boys  and  girls.  He  urges  the  establishment  of 
penny  banks  in  connection  with  savings-banks,  in  all 
elementary  schools.  He  wisely  contends  that  simple 
lessons  on  money,  its  nature,  its  value,  and  its  uses,  to- 
gether with  the  various  duties  of  giving,  spending,  and 
saving,  would  have  a  vast  influence  on  the  rising  gen- 
eration. 

The  practice  of  teaching  children  provident  habits 
has  been  adopted  for  about  eight  years  in  the  National 
Schools  of  Belgium,  the  School  Board  of  Ghent  being 
convinced  of  the  favorable  influence  that  saving  has 
upon  the  moral  and  material  well-being  of  the  working- 
classes,  and  believing  that  the  best  means  of  causing 
the  spirit  of  economy  to  penetrate  their  habits  is  to 
teach  it  to  the  children  under  tuition,  and  to  make  them 
practice  it. 

It  is  always  very  difficult  to  teach  any  thing  new  to 
adults,  and  especially  lessons  of  thrift  to  men  who  are 
thriftless.  Their  method  of  living  is  fixed.  Tradition- 
al and  inveterate  liabits  of  expenditure  exist  among 
them.  With  men  it  is  the  drinking-shop ;  with  wom- 
en it  is  dress.  They  spend  what  they  earn,  and  think 
nothing  of  to-morrow.  AVhen  reduced  to  a  state  of 
distress,  they  feel  no  shame  in  begging ;  for  the  feeling 
of  human  dignity  has  not  yet  been  sufficiently  devel- 
oped in  them. 

With  children  it  is  very  different.  They  have  no  in- 
veterate habits  to  get  rid  of.  They  will,  for  the  most 
part,  do  as  they  are  taught.  And  they  can  be  taught 
economy,  just  as  they  can  be  taught  arithmetic.     Tliey 


164  Belgian  Schools.  [CHAP.  Vlll. 

can,  at  all  events,  be  inspired  by  a  clever  teacher  with 
habits  of  economy  and  thrift.  Every  child  has  a  few 
pence  at  times.  The  master  may  induce  them  to  save 
these  for  some  worthy  purpose.  At  Ghent,  a  savings- 
bank  has  been  introduced  in  every  school,  and  the  chil- 
dren deposit  their  pennies  there.  It  is  introduced  into 
the  paying  schools  as  well  as  the  free  schools ;  for  hab- 
its of  thrift  are  as  useful  to  men  and  women  of  the  rich- 
er  as  of  the  poorer  classes.  The  results  of  the  lessons 
on  economy  have  been  highly  satisfactory.*  The  chil- 
dren belonging  to  the  schools  of  Ghent  have  accumu- 
lated eighteen  thousand  pounds,  which  are  deposited  in 
the  State  Savings-bank,  at  three  per  cent,  interest.  This 
system  is  spreading  into  Holland,  France,  and  Italy. 
It  has  also,  to  a  certain  extent,  been  adopted  in  this 
country.  Thus  Glasgow,  Liverpool,  Birmingham,  Great 
Ilford,  and  the  London  Orphan  Asylum,  all  show  spec- 
imens of  school  banks ;  and  we  trust  that,  before  long, 
they  will  be  established  in  every  school  throughout  the 
kingdom. 

It  will  be  obvious,  from  what  has  been  said,  that 
the  practice  of  economy  depends  very  much  upon  the 
facilities  provided  for  the  laying-by  of  small  sums  of 
money.     Let  a  convenient  savings-bank  be  provided, 

*  A  pamphlet  published  at  Ghent  says  of  the  paying  schools  :  "  The 
spirit  of  economy  is  introduced  there  under  the  form  of  charit}^  The 
young  girls  buy  with  their  pocket-money,  firstly  materials,  say  cotton 
or  linen,  of  which  they  afterward  make  articles  of  dress  during  the 
hours  set  aside  for  manual  work ;  afterward  the  shirts,  stockings, 
dresses,  handkerchiefs,  or  aprons,  are  distributed  to  the  poorer  children 
of  the  free  schools.  The  distribution  becomes  the  object  of  a  little 
lioliday.  We  know  of  nothing  that  can  be  more  touching.  The  poor 
children  are  assembled  in  the  Collier  school ;  our  young  ladies  go  there 
also ;  one  of  them  says  a  few  words  feelingly  to  her  sisters  in  the  poor- 
er classes  ;  one  of  the  girls  of  the  free  schools  replies.  Then  the  pretty 
and  useful  things  which  have  been  made  during  the  last  year  are  dis- 
tributed. It  is  the  donors  themselves  who  present  the  fruits  of  their 
labor  to  the  poorest  among  the  poor.  The  distribution  is  intermingled 
with  singing.    Need  we  reiterate  the  blessings  of  this  blessed  economy  ?" 


CHAP.  VIII.]  Facilities  for  Saving.  165 

and  deposits  gradually  flow  into  it.  Let  a  military 
savings-bank  be  established,  and  private  soldiers  con- 
trive to  save  something  out  of  their  small  pay.  Let 
penny  banks  be  opened,  and  crowds  of  depositors  im- 
mediately present  themselves,  even  the  boys  of  the 
ragged  schools  being  able  to  put  into  them  considera- 
ble sums  of  money.  It  is  the  same  with  school  banks, 
as  we  have  seen  from  the  example  of  the  school-chil- 
dren of  Ghent. 

Now,  fifteen  years  ago,  this  country  was  very  insuf- 
ficiently provided  with  savings-banks  for  the  people. 
There  were  then  many  large  towns  and  villages  alto- 
gether unprovided  with  them.  Lancashire  had  only 
thirty  savings-banks  for  upward  of  two  millions  of 
people.  The  East  Riding  of  Yorkshire  had  only  four 
savings-banks.  There  were  fifteen  counties  in  the 
United  Kingdom  which  had  not  a  single  savings-bank. 
There  were  only  about  six  hundred  savings-banks  for 
about  thirty  millions  of  people.  These  were  open  only 
for  two  or  three  hours  in  the  week;  some  were  open 
for  only  four  hours  in  the  month.  The  workman  who 
had  money  to  save  had  to  carry  his  spare  shillings  in 
his  pocket  for  some  time  before  he  could  lay  them  by; 
and  in  the  mean  time  he  might  be  exposed  to  constant 
temptations  to  spend  them.  To  keep  his  shillings  safe, 
he  must  have  acquired  the  hahit  of  saving,  which  it  was 
the  object  of  savings-banks  to  train  and  establish. 

Dr.  Guthrie,  in  his  book  on  ragged  schools,  published 
in  1860,  said,  "How  are  our  manufacturing  and  handi- 
craft youth  situated?  By  public -houses  and  spirit- 
shops  they  are  surrounded  with  innumerable  tempta- 
tions; while  to  many  of  them  savings-banks  are  liard- 
ly  known  by  name.  Dissipation  has  her  nets  drawn 
across  every  street.  In  many  of  our  towns,  sobriety 
lias  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  lialf  a  dozen  spirit-shops  in 
the  space  of  a  bow^-shot.     These  are  near  at  hand — 


166  Extension  of  Savings-hanks.      [chap.  vili. 

open  by  day,  and  blazing  by  night,  both  on  Sabbath 
and  Saturday.  Drunkenness  finds  immediate  gratifica- 
tion ;  while  economy  has  to  travel  a  mile,  it  may  be, 
for  her  savings-bank ;  and  that  opens  its  door  to  thrift 
but  once  or  twice  a  week."* 

Many  suggestions  had  been  made  by  friends  of  the 
poorer  classes,  whether  it  might  not  be  possible  to 
establish  a  more  extended  system  of  savings  -  banks 
throughout  the  country.  As  long  ago  as  1807,  Mr. 
Whitbread  introduced  a  bill  into  Parliament  for  the 
purpose  of  enabling  small  deposits  to  be  made  at  an 
ofiice  to  be  established  in  London;  the  money  to  be 
remitted  by  the  postmasters  of  the  districts  in  which 
the  deposits  were  made.  The  bill  further  contem- 
plated the  establishment  of  a  National  Assurance  So- 
ciety, by  means  of  which  working -people  were  to  be 
enabled  to  effect  assurances  to  an  extent  not  exceed- 
ing two  hundred  pounds,  and  to  secure  annuities  to  an 
amount  not  exceeding  twenty  pounds.  Mr.  Whit- 
bread's  bill  was  rejected,  and  nothing  came  of  his  sug- 
ojestions. 

The  exertions  of  Sir  Rowland  Hill  having  given 
great  vitality  to  the  post-office  system,  and  extended 
its  usefulness  as  a  public  institution  in  all  directions, 
it  was  next  suggested  that  the  money -order  offices 
(which  were  established  in  1838)  might  be  applied  for 
the  purpose  of  depositing  as  well  as  for  transmitting 
money.  Professor  Hancock  published  a  pamphlet  on 
the  subject  in  1852.  In  November,  1856,  Mr.  John 
Bullar,  the  eminent  counsel — whose  attention  had  been 
directed  to  the  subject  by  the  working  of  the  Putney 
Penny  Bank — suggested  to  the  post-office  authorities 
the  employment  of  money-order  offices  as  a  means  of 


*  "Seed-time  and  Harvest  of  Ragged  Schools;  or,  A  Third  Plea, 
with  New  Editions  of  the  First  and  Second  Plea,"  p.  99. 


CHAP.  VIII.]  Money  Order  Offices.  167 

extending  the  savings-bank  system;  but  his  sugges- 
tion did  not  meet  with  approval  at  the  time,  and  noth- 
ing came  of  it.  Similar  suggestions  Avere  made  by 
other  gentlemen — by  Mr.  Hume,  by  Mr.  M'Corquodale, 
by  Captain  Strong,  by  Mr.  Ray  Smee,  and  others. 

But  it  was  not  until  Mr.  Sikes,  of  Huddersfield,  took 
up  the  question,  that  these  various  suggestions  became 
embodied  in  facts.  Suggestions  are  always  useful. 
They  arouse  thinking.  The  most  valuable  are  never 
lost,  but  at  length  work  themselves  into  facts.  Most 
inventions  are  the  result  of  original  suggestions.  Some 
one  attempts  to  apply  the  idea.  Failures  occur  at 
first;  but  with  greater  knowledge,  greater  experience, 
and  greater  determination,  the  suggestion  at  last  suc- 
ceeds. 

Post-office  savings-banks  owe  their  success,  in  the 
first  place,  to  the  numerous  suggestions  made  by  Mr. 
Whitbread  and  others ;  next  to  Sir  Rowland  Hill,  who, 
by  establishing  the  branch  post-offices  for  the  trans- 
mission of  money,  made  the  suggestions  practicable ; 
next  to  Mr.  Sikes,  who  took  up  the  question  in  1850, 
pushed  it,  persevered  with  it,  and  brought  it  under 
the  notice  of  successive  chancellors  of  the  exchequer ; 
and  lastly  to  Mr.  Gladstone,  who,  having  clearly  fore- 
seen the  immense  benefits  of  post-office  savings-banks, 
brousfht  in  a  bill  and  carried  it  throuojh  Parliament  in 
1861. 

The  money-order  department  of  the  post-office  had 
suggested  to  Mr.  Sikes,  as  it  had  already  done  to  other 
observers,  that  the  organization  already  existed  for 
making  post-office  savings-banks  practicable  through- 
out the  kingdom.  Wherever  the  local  inspector  found 
that  as  many  as  five  money-orders  were  required  in 
a  week,  the  practice  was  to  make  that  branch  of  the 
post-office  a  money-order  office.  It  was  estimated  tliat 
such  an  office  was  established  on  an  average  within 


168  Post-office  Savings -banl-s.      [chap.  viii. 

three  miles  of  every  working-man's  door  in  the  king- 
dom. Tlie  offices  were  open  daily.  They  received 
money  from  all  comers,  and  gave  vouchers  for  the 
amounts  transmitted  through  them.  They  held  the 
money  until  it  was  drawn,  and  paid  it  out  on  a  proper 
voucher  being  presented.  The  post-office  was,  in  fact, 
a  bank  for  the  transmission  of  money,  holding  it  for  pe- 
riods of  from  twenty-four  hours  to  weeks  and  months. 
By  enabling  it  to  receive  more  money  from  more  de- 
positors, and  by  increasing  the  time  of  holding  it,  al- 
lowing the  usual  interest,  it  became  to  all  intents  and 
purposes  a  national  bank  of  deposit. 

The  results  of  the  Post-office  Savings-banks  Act  have 
proved  entirely  satisfactory.  The  money-order  offices 
have  been  largely  extended.  They  are  now  about  four 
thousand  in  number ;  consequently,  the  facilities  for 
saving  have  been  nearly  doubled  since  the  banks  were 
established.  The  number  in  the  London  district  is 
jiow  about  four  hundred  and  sixty,  so  that  from  any 
point  in  the  thickly  populated  parts  of  the  metropolis 
a  savings-bank  may  be  found  within  a  distance  of  a 
few  hundred  yards.  The  number  of  the  depositors  at 
the  end  of  1873  amounted  to  more  than  a  million  and 
a  half;  while  the  amount  of  deposits  reached  over 
twenty-one  millions  sterling.*  At  the  same  time  the 
amount  deposited  with  the  original  savings-banks  re- 
mained about  the  same. 

Post-office  savings-banks  possess  several  great  ad- 
vantages which  ought  to  be  generally  known.  The 
banks  are  very  widely  diffused,  and  are  open  from  nine 
in  the  morning  until  six  in  the  evening,  and  on  Satur- 
days until  nine  at  night.  Persons  may  make  a  deposit 
of  a  shilling,  or  of  any  number  of  shillings,  provided 
more  than  thirty  pounds  is  not  deposited  in  any  one 

*  The  amount  reached  £23,157,469  at  the  end  of  1874. 


CHAP.  VIII.]       Post-office  Savings-hanks.  169 

year.  The  post-office  officers  furnish  the  book  in  which 
the  several  deposits  are  entered.  The  book  also  con- 
tains the  regulations  of  the  post-office  savings-banks. 
Interest  is  allowed  at  the  rate  of  two  pound  ten  shil- 
lings per  cent,  per  annum. 

Another  most  important  point  is,  the  Security.  Gov- 
ernment is  responsible  for  the  full  amount  paid  in ;  so 
that  the  money  deposited  with  the  post-office  savings- 
bank  is  as  safe  as  if  it  were  in  the  Bank  of  England. 
The  money  saved  may  also  be  transferred  from  place 
to  place,  without  expense,  and  may  be  easily  paid  to 
the  depositor  when  required,  no  matter  where  it  was 
originally  deposited.  All  that  is  done,  is  done  in  per- 
fect secrecy  between  the  depositor  and  the  postmas- 
ter, who  is  forbidden  to  disclose  the  names  of  the  de- 
positors. 

We  have  frequently  alluded  to  Mr.  Charles  William 
Sikes  in  connection  with  penn}'-  banks  and  post-office 
savings-banks.  His  name  must  always  hold  a  distin- 
guished place  in  connection  with  those  valuable  insti- 
tutions. He  is  the  son  of  a  private  banker  in  Hudders- 
field.  When  at  school,  he  was  presented,  as  a  prize, 
with  a  copy  of  Dr.  Franklin's  "  Essays  and  Letters." 
He  perused  the  book  with  avidity.  It  implanted  in 
his  mind  the  germs  of  many  useful  thoughts,  and  exer- 
cised a  powerful  influence  in  giving  a  practical  charac- 
ter to  his  life.  Huddersfield  is  a  busy  manufacturing 
town.  Although  workmen  were  well  paid  for  their  la- 
bor, there  were  many  ups  and  downs  in  their  business. 
When  trade  became  slack,  and  they  had  spent  all  that 
they  had  earned,  numbers  of  them  were  accustomed  to 
apply  for  charity  in  the  streets  or  by  the  wayside. 
Young  Sikes  often  wondered  whether  these  people  had 
ever  heard  of  Dr.  Franklin,  and  of  his  method  of  avoid- 
ing beggary  or  bad  times  by  saving  their  money  when 
trade  was  brisk  and  they  were  well  off. 

8 


170  Charles  W.  Slices.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

Early  in  1833,  Mr.  Sikes  e«fttered  the  service  of  the 
Huddersfield  Banking  Company.  It  was  the  second 
joint-stock  bank  that  had  been  established  in  England. 
The  prudence  and  success  with  which  the  Scotch  bank- 
ing companies  had  been  conducted  induced  the  direct- 
ors to  select  a  Scotch  manager.  One  of  the  first  res- 
olutions the  directors  adopted  was  to  give  deposit  re- 
ceipts for  suras  of  ten  pounds  and  upward,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  encouraging  the  working -classes  in  habits  of 
providence  and  thrift.  Mr.  Sikes,  being  somewhat  of  a 
favorite  with  the  manager,  often  heard  from  his  lips 
most  interesting  accounts  of  the  provident  habits  of 
the  Scotch  peasantry,  and  was  informed  by  him  of  the 
fact  that  one  of  the  banks  at  Perth  paid  not  less  than 
twenty  thousand  pounds  a  year  as  interest  on  deposits 
varying  from  ten  to  two  hundred  pounds  each. 

In  1837,  Mr.  Sikes  became  one  of  the  cashiers  of  the 
company.  This  brought  him  into  direct  contact,  and 
intercourse  with  the  very  class  which,  from  the  direc- 
tion his  mind  was  taking,  he  so  much  wished  to  under- 
stand, namely,  the  thrifty  portion  of  the  industrious 
classes.  A  considerable  number  of  them  had  sums  ly- 
ing at  interest.  As  years  rolled  on,  Mr.  Sikes  often  wit- 
nessed the  depositor  commencing  with  ten  or  twenty 
pounds,  then  making  permanent  additions  to  his  little 
store,  until  at  length  the  amount  would  reach  one,  two, 
or,  in  a  few  instances,  even  three  hundred  pounds.  Mr. 
Sikes  would  often  imagine  the  marvelous  improvement 
that  would  be  effected  in  the  condition  of  the  working- 
classes,  if  every  member  of  them  became  influenced  by 
the  same  frugality  and  forethought  which  induced  these 
exceptional  operatives  to  deposit  their  sa^'ings  at  his 
bank. 

About  that  time,  trade  was  in  a  wretched  condition. 
The  hand-loom  weavers  were  almost  entirely  without 
emi)loyment.     Privation  and  sufiering  prevailed  on  ev- 


CHAP.  VIII.]     Thriftlessness  of  the  Masses.  171 

eiy  side,  and  these  were  often  borne  with  silent  and 
noble  heroism.  Yai'ioiis  remedies  were  proposed  for 
the  existing  evils.  Socialism,  chartism,  and  free  trade 
were  the  favorites.  Theories  of  the  wildest  and  most 
impracticable  character  abounded ;  and  yet,  even  in 
those  dark  days,  there  were  instances  of  men  who  had 
to  some  degree  made  the  future  predominate  over  the 
present,  who  could  fall  back  upon  their  reserve  in  the 
joint-stock  or  savings  bank  to  tide  them  over  into  bet- 
ter times.  Believing  in  the  beneficent  results  of  free 
trade,  Mr.  Sikes  was  equally  convinced  that  national 
prosperity,  as  well  as  national  adversity,  might  be  at- 
tended with  great  evils,  unless  the  masses  were  endow- 
ed with  habits  of  providence  and  thrift,  and  prepared 
by  previous  education  for  the  "good  time  coming  "bo 
eloquently  predicted  by  the  orators  of  the  League. 

Many  discussions  with  working-men,  in  his  home- 
ward evening  walks,  convinced  Mr.  Sikes  that  there 
were  social  problems  with  which  legislation  would  be 
almost  powerless  to  grapple,  and  of  these  the  thrift- 
lessness of  the  masses  of  the  peoj^le  was  one.  An  em- 
ployer of  five  hundred  hand-loom  weavers  had  told 
Mr.  Sikes  that  in  a  previous  period  of  prosperity,  when 
work  was  abundant  and  -w^ges  were  very  high,  lie 
could  not,  had  he  begged  on  bended  knee,  have  in- 
duced his  men  to  save  a  single  penny,  or  to  lay  by  any 
thing  for  a  rainy  day.  The  fancy  waistcoating  trade 
had  uniformly  had  its  cycles  of  alternate  briskness  and 
depression ;  but  experience,  however  stern  its  teach- 
ings, could  not  teach  unwilling  learners.  It  was  at 
this  period  that  Mr.  Sikes  was  reading  the  late  Arch- 
bishop Sumner's  "Records  of  Creation,"  and  met  with 
the  following  passage  :  "  The  only  true  secret  of  assist- 
ing the  poor  is  to  make  them  agents  in  bettering  their 
own  condition." 

Simple  as  arc  the  words,  they  shed  liglit  into  Mr. 


172  Pcnnfj  Savings-banks  Formed.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

Sikes's  mind,  and  became  the  key-note  and  the  test  to 
which  lie  brought  the  various  views  and  theories 
Avhich  he  had  previously  met  with.  Doles  and  chari- 
ties, though  founded  frequently  on  the  most  benevo- 
lent motives,  were  too  often  deteriorating  to  their  re- 
cipients. On  the  other  hand,  if  self-reliance  and  self- 
help — the  columns  of  true  majesty  in  man — could  only 
be  made  characteristics  of  the  working- classes  gen- 
erally, nothing  could  retard  their  onward  and  upward 
progress.  Mr.  Sikes  observed  that  until  the  working- 
classes  had  more  of  the  money  power  in  their  hands 
they  would  still  be  periodically  in  poverty  and  dis- 
tress. He  saw  that  if  provident  habits  could  only  be 
generally  pursued  by  them,  the  face  of  society  would 
immediately  be  transformed  ;  and  he  resolved,  in  so  far 
as  lay  in  his  power,  to  give  every  aid  to  this  good  work. 

In  1850,  savings-banks  were  only  open  a  very  few 
hours  in  each  week.  In  Iluddersfield,  where  more 
than  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  a  year  was  paid 
in  wages,  the  savings-bank,  after  having  been  estab- 
lished over  thirty  years,  had  only  accumulated  seven- 
ty-four thousand  three  hundred  and  thirty-two  pounds. 
In  1850,  Mr.  Sikes  addressed  an  anonymous  letter  to 
the  editors  of  the  Leeds  Mercury^  to  which,  by  their  re- 
quest, he  afterward  attached  his  name.  In  that  letter 
he  recommended  the  formation  of  penny  savings-banks 
in  connection  with  mechanics'  and  similar  institutes. 
In  simj)le  words,  but  with  many  telling  facts,  he  show- 
ed how  the  young  men  and  the  young  women  of  the 
working-classes  were  growing  up  deprived  of  almost 
every  opportunity  of  forming  habits  of  thrift,  and  of 
becoming  depositors  in  savings-banks. 

The  letter  was  received  with  general  approbation. 
The  committee  of  the  Yorkshire  Union  of  Mechanics' 
Institutes  gave  their  cordial  sanction  to  it ;  and  penny 
banks  were  established  in  connection  with  nearly  every 


CHAP,  yiil.]      Mechanics'  Savings-hanhs.  173 

mechanics'  institute  in  Yorkshire.  Mr.  Sikes  personal- 
ly conducted  one  at  Iluddersfield ;  and,  down  to  the 
present  time,  it  has  received  and  repaid  about  £30,000. 
In  fact,  the  working-people  of  Huddersfield,  doubtless 
owing  in  a  great  measure  to  the  j^ractical  example  of 
Mr.  Sikes,  have  become  most  provident  and  thrifty,  the 
deposits  in  their  savings-bank  having  increased  from 
£74,000  in  1850  to  £330,000  in  1874. 

In  1854,  Mr.  Sikes  published  his.  excellent  pamphlet 
on  "  Good  Times ;  or.  The  Savings-bank  and  the  Fire- 
side," to  which  we  have  already  referred.  The  success 
which  it  met  with  induced  him  to  give  his  attention 
to  the  subject  of  savings-banks  generally.  He  was 
surprised  to  find  that  they  were  so  utterly  inadequate 
to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  country.  He  sought 
an  interview  with  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis,  then  Chancellor 
of  the  Exchequer,  and  brought  the  subject  under  his 
consideration.  The  chancellor  requested  Mr.  Sikes  to 
embody  his  views  in  a  letter,  and  in  the  course  of  a' 
ie\Y  months  there  appeared  a  pamphlet  addressed  to 
Sir  Cornewall  Lewis,  entitled  "  Savings-banks  Reforms." 
Mr.  Sikes  insisted  on  the  Government  guarantee  beino' 
given  for  deposits  made  in  savings-banks ;  but  this 
was  refused. 

Mr.  Sikes  next  proceeded  to  ventilate  the  question 
of  post-office  savings-banks.  He  was  disappointed 
that  no  measure  for  the  improvement  of  savings-banks 
had  been  adopted  by  Parliament.  The  day  appeared 
very  distant  when  his  cherished  wish  would  be  realized 
— that  the  savings-bank  should  really  become  the  Bank 
of  the  People.  But  tlie  darkest  hour  precedes  the 
dawn.  When  he  had  almost  given  uj)  tlie  notion  of 
improving  the  existing  savings-banks,  tlie  idea  sudden- 
ly struck  him  that  in  the  money-order  office  tliere  was 
the  very  organization  which  might  be  made  the  basis 
of  a  popular  savings-bank. 


174  Charles  W.  Sikes.  [CHAP.  VIII. 

He  communicated  his  plan  in  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Mr.  Baines,  then  member  for  Leeds.  The  plan  was 
submitted  to  Sir  Rowland  Hill,  who  approved  of  the 
suggestions,  and  considered  the  scheme  "  practicable 
so  far  as  the  post-office  was  concerned."  The  plan  was 
then  brought  under  the  notice  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  who 
afterward  carried  the  bill  through  Parliament  for  the 
establishment  of  post-office  savings-banks  throughout 
the  country. 

To  use  the  words  of  Mr.  Sikes  himself,  when  pre- 
dicting, at  the  Social  Science  Association,  the  success 
of  the  post-office  savings-banks,  "  Should  the  plan  be 
carried  out,  it  will  soon  be  doing  a  glorious  work. 
Whenever  a  bank  is  opened,  and  deposits  received,  self- 
reliance  will  to  some  extent  be  aroused,  and,  with  many, 
a  nobler  life  will  be  begun.  They  will  gradually  dis- 
cern how  ruthless  an  enemy  is  improvidence  to  work- 
ing-men ;  and  how  truly  his  friends  are  economy  and 
forethought.  Under  their  guidance,  household  pur- 
chases could  be  made  on  the  most  favored  terms — 
for  cash/  any  wished -for  house  taken  at  the  lowest 
rent  for  ^9?«;zc^i<a^  2')ayinent ;  and  the  home  enriched 
with  comforts  until  it  is  enjoyed  and  prized  by  all. 
From  such  firesides  go  forth  those  inheriting  the  right 
spirit,  loving  industry,  loving  thrift,  and  loving  home. 
Emulous  of  a  good  example,  they  in  their  day  and 
generation  would  nobly  endeavor  to  lay  by  a  portion 
of  their  income.  Many  a  hard  winter  and  many  a 
slack  time  would  be  comfortably  got  over  by  drawing 
on  the  little  fund,  to  be  again  replenished  in  better 
days.  And  if  the  plan  were  adopted,  remembering 
that  it  would  virtually  bring  the  savings-bank  within 
less  than  an  hour's  walk  of  the  fireside  of  every  work- 
ing-man in  the  United  Kingdom,  I  trust  that  it  is  not 
taking  too  sanguine  a  view  to  anticipate  that  it  would 
render  aid  in  ultimately  winning  over  the  rank  and 


CHAP.  VIII.]  Savings  of  Artisans.  175 

file  of  the  industrial  classes  of  the  kingdom  to  those 
habits  of  forethought  and  self-denial  which  bring  en- 
during reward  to  the  individual,  and  materially  add  to 
the  safety  of  the  state." 

The  working -classes  have  not  yet,  however,  taken 
full  advantaixe  of  the  facilities  for  savinor  afforded  them 
by  the  post-office  savings-banks.  Take  Birmingham, 
for  instance,  where  the  artisans  are  among  the  best- 
paid  workmen  of  the  town.  In  the  list  of  depositors 
in  the  post-office  savings-banks,  we  find  that  the  arti- 
sans rank  after  the  domestic  servants,  after  the  mar- 
ried and  unmarried  women,  and  after  the  minors. 
They  only  constitute  about  one -tenth  of  the  entire 
depositors,  though  it  is  possible  that  they  may  deposit 
their  savings  in  some  other  investments. 

Then  take  the  returns  for  the  entire  United  King- 
dom. Out  of  every  ten  thousand  depositors  in  the 
post-office  savings-banks,  we  find  that  the  domestic 
servants  are  again  the  first;  next,  the  women,  married 
and  single;  next,  persons  of  "no  occupation"  and 
"occupation  not  given;"  next,  the  artisans,  and  after 
them  the  laborers,  minors,  tradesmen,  soldiers  and 
sailors,  clerks,  milliners  and  dress-makers,  professional 
men  and  public  officials,  in  the  order  stated.  We 
must,  however,  regard  the  institution  as  still  too 
young  to  have  fully  taken  root.  We  believe  that  the 
living  generation  must  pass  away  before  the  full  fruits 
of  the  post-office  savings-banks  can  be  gathered  in. 

The  inhabitants  of  Preston  have  exhibited  a  strong 
disposition  to  save  their  earnings  during  the  last  few 
years,  more  especially  since  the  conclusion  of  the  last 
great  strike.  There  is  no  town  in  England,  excepting 
perhaps  Iluddersfield,  where  the  people  have  proved 
themselves  so  provident  and  so  thrifty.  Fifty  years 
ago,  only  one  })erson  in  thirty  of  the  population  of 
Preston  deposited  money  in  the  savings-bank;  twenty 


176  Savings  in  Preston.  [ciiAP.  viii. 

years  ago,  the  depositors  increased  to  one  in  eleven ; 
and  last  year  they  had  increased  to  one  in  five.  In 
1834,  the  sum  of  £165,000  had  been  accumulated  in  the 
savings-bank  by  5942  depositors;  and  in  1874,  £472,000 
had  been  accumulated  by  14,792  depositors,  out  of  a 
total  population  of  85,428.  Is  there  any  other  town 
or  city  that  can  show  a  more  satisfactory  result  of  the 
teaching,  the  experience,  and  the  prosperity  of  the  last 
twenty  years  ? 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LITTLE    THINGS. 

"The  sober  comfort,  all  the  peace  ^Yhich  springs 
From  the  large  aggregate  of  little  things  ; 
On  these  small  cares  of  daughter,  wife,  or  friend, 
The  almost  sacred  jojs  of  Home  depend." — Hannah  More. 

"Know  ^vhen  to  spend  and  when  to  spare, 
And  when  to  buy,  and  thou  shalt  ne'er  be  bare." 

"He  that  despiseth  little  things,  shall  perish  by  little  and  little."— 
Proverbs  of  Solomon. 

"IVTEGLECT  of  small  things  is  the  rock  on  which 
-^^  the  great  majority  of  the  human  race  have  sj^lit. 
Human  life  consists  of  a  succession  of  small  events, 
each  of  Avhich  is  comparatively  unimportant,  and  yet 
the  happiness  and  success  of  every  man  depend  upon 
the  manner  in  which  these  small  events  are  dealt  with. 
Character  is  built  up  on  little  things — little  things  well 
and  honorably  transacted.  The  success  of  a  man  in 
business  depends  on  his  attention  to  little  things.  The 
comfort  of  a  household  is  the  result  of  small  things 
well  arranged  and  duly  provided  for.  Good  govern- 
ment can  only  be  accomplished  in  the  same  way — by 
well-regulated  provisions  for  the  doing  of  little  things. 
Accumulations  of  knowledge  and  experience  of  the 
most  valuable  kind  are  the  result  of  little  bits  of  knowl- 
edge and  experience  carefully  treasured  up.  Those 
who  learn  nothing,  or  accumulate  nothing  in  life,  are 
set  down  as  failures,  because  they  have  neglected  lit- 
tle things.  They  may  themselves  consider  that  the 
world  has  gone  against  them ;  but,  in  fact,  they  have 
been  their  own  enemies.  There  lias  long  been  a  pop- 
s'^ 


178  Luck  and  Labor.  [chap.  ix. 

ular  belief  in  "good  luck;"  but,  like  many  other  pop- 
ular notions,  it  is  gradually  giving  way.  The  convic- 
tion is  extending  that  diligence  is  the  mother  of  good 
luck ;  in  other  words,  that  a  man's  success  in  life  will 
be  proportionate  to  his  eiforts,  to  his  industry,  to  his 
attention  to  small  things.  Your  negligent,  shiftless, 
loose  fellows  never  meet  with  luck;  because  the  re- 
sults of  industry  are  denied  to  those  who  will  not  use 
the  proper  efforts  to  secure  tliem. 

It  is  not  luck,  but  labor,  that  makes  men.  Luck, 
says  an  American  writer,  is  ever  waiting  for  some- 
thing to  turn  up ;  Labor,  with  keen  eye  and  strong 
will,  always  turns  up  something.  Luck  lies  in  bed,  and 
wishes  the  postman  would  bring  him  news  of  a  legacy ; 
Labor  turns  out  at  six,  and  with  busy  pen  or  ringing 
hammer  lays  the  foundation  of  a  competence.  Luck 
whines;  Labor  whistles.  Luck  relies  on  chance;  Labor, 
on  character.  Luck  slips  downward  to  self-indulgence ; 
Labor  strides  upward,  and  aspires  to  independence. 

There  are  many  little  things  in  the  household,  atten- 
tion to  which  is  indispensable  to  health  and  happiness. 
Cleanliness  consists  in  attention  to  a  number  of  appar- 
ent trifles — the  scrubbing  of  a  floor,  the  dusting  of  a 
chair,  the  cleansing  of  a  tea-cup  ;  but  the  general  result 
of  the  whole  is  an  atmosphere  of  moral  and  physical 
well-being — a  condition  favorable  to  the  highest  growth 
of  human  character.  The  kind  of  air  which  circulates 
in  a  house  may  seem  a  small  matter,  for  we  can  not 
see  the  air,  and  few  people  know  any  thing  about  it; 
yet  if  we  do  not  provide  a  regular  supply  of  pure  air 
within  our  houses,  we  shall  inevitably  sufler  for  our 
neglect.  A  few  specks  of  dirt  may  seem  neither  here 
nor  there,  and  a  closed  door  or  window  would  appear 
to  make  little  diff*erence;  but  it  may  make  the  differ- 
ence of  a  life  destroyed  by  fever;  and  therefore  the 
little  dirt  and  the  little  bad  air  are  really  very  serious 


CHAP.  IX.]  Kegled  of  Little  Things.  179 

matters.  The  whole  of  the  houseliold  regulations  are, 
taken  by  themselves,  trifles,  but  trifles  tending  to  an 
important  result. 

A  pin  is  a  very  little  thing  in  an  article  of  dress,  but 
the  way  in  which  it  is  put  into  the  dress  often  reveals 
to  you  the  character  of  the  wearer.  A  shrewd  fellow 
was  once  looking  out  for  a  wife,  and  was  on  a  visit  to 
a  family  of  daughters  with  this  object.  The  fair  one, 
of  whom  lie  was  partially  enamored,  one  day  entered 
the  room  in  which  he  was  seated,  with  her  dress  par- 
tially unpinned  and  her  hair  untidy :  he  never  went 
back.  You  may  say,  such  a  fellow  was  "not  worth  a 
pin ;"  but  he  was  reall}'-  a  shrewd  fellow,  and  afterward 
made  a  good  husband.  He  judged  of  women  as  of 
men — by  little  things ;  and  he  was  right. 

A  druggist  advertised  for  an  assistant,  and  lie  liad 
applications  from  a  score  of  young  men.  He  invited 
them  all  to  come  to  his  shop  at  the  same  time,  and  set 
them  each  to  make  up  a  pennyworth  of  salts  into  a 
packet.  He  selected  the  one  that  did  this  little  thing 
in  the  neatest  and  most  expert  manner.  He  inferred 
their  general  practical  ability  from  their  performance 
of  this  smallest  bit  of  business. 

Neglect  of  little  things  has  ruined  many  fortunes  and 
marred  the  best  of  enterprises.  The  ship  which  bore 
home  the  merchant's  treasure  was  lost  because  it  was 
allowed  to  leave  the  port  from  which  it  sailed  with  a 
very  little  hole  in  the  bottom.  For  w^ant  of  a  nail,  the 
shoe  of  the  aid-de-camp's  horse  was  lost ;  for  want  of 
the  shoe,  the  horse  was  lost ;  for  want  of  the  horse,  the 
aid-de-camp  himself  was  lost,  for  the  enemy  took  him 
and  killed  him ;  and  for  want  of  the  aid-de-camp's  in- 
telligence, the  army  of  his  general  was  lost.  And  all 
because  a  little  nail  had  not  been  properly  fixed  in  a 
horse's  shoe ! 

*'  It  will  do  !"  is  the  common  phrase  of  those  who  neg- 


180  ''It  will  do  /"  [CHAP.  IX. 

lect  little  tilings.  "It  will  do!"  has  blighted  many  a 
character,  blasted  many  a  fortune,  sunk  many  a  ship, 
burned  down  many  a  house,  and  irretrievably  ruined 
thousands  of  hopeful  projects  of  human  good.  It  al- 
ways means  stopping  short  of  the  right  thing.  It  is  a 
make-shift.  It  is  a  failure  and  defeat.  Not  what "  will 
do,"  but  what  is  the  best  possible  thing  to  do,  is  the 
point  to  be  aimed  at !  Let  a  man  once  adopt  the  max- 
im of  "It  will  do,"  and  he  is  given  over  to  the  enemy; 
he  is  on  the  side  of  incompetency  and  defeat ;  and  we 
give  him  up  as  a  hopeless  subject ! 

M.  Say,  the  French  political  economist,  has  related 
the  following  illustration  of  the  neglect  of  little  things: 
Once,  at  a  farm  in  the  country,  there  was  a  gate  inclos- 
ing the  cattle  and  poultry,  which  was  constantly  swing- 
ing open  for  want  of  a  proper  latch.  The  expenditure 
of  a  penny  or  two,  and  a  few  minutes'  time,  would  have 
made  all  right.  It  was  on  the  swing  every  time  a  per- 
son went  out,  and  not  being  in  a  state  to  shut  readily, 
many  of  the  poultry  were  from  time  to  time  lost.  One 
day  a  fine  young  porker  made  his  escape,  and  the  whole 
family,  with  the  gardener,  cook,  and  milkmaid,  turned 
out  in  quest  of  the  fugitive.  The  gardener  was  the 
first  to  discover  the  pig,  and,  in  leaping  a  ditch  to  cut 
oiF  his  escape,  got  a  sprain  that  kept  him  to  his  bed  for 
a  fortnight.  The  cook,  on  her  return  to  the  farm-house, 
found  the  linen  burned  that  she  had  hung  up  before 
the  fire  to  dry ;  and  the  milkmaid  having  forgotten,  in 
her  haste,  to  tie  up  the  cattle  in  the  cow-house,  one  of 
the  loose  cows  had  broken  the  leg  of  a  colt  that  hap- 
pened to  be  kept  in  the  same  shed.  The  linen  burned 
and  the  gardener's  work  lost  were  worth  full  five 
pounds,  and  the  colt  worth  nearly  double  that  money : 
so  that  here  was  a  loss  in  a  few  minutes  of  a  large  sum, 
purely  for  want  of  a  little  latch  which  might  have  been 
supplied  for  a  few  halfpence. 


CHAP.  IX.]  Spending  of  Pennies.  181 

Life  is  full  of  illustrations  of  a  similar  kind.  When 
small  things  are  habitually  neglected,  ruin  is  not  far 
off.  It  is  the  hand  of  the  diligent  that  maketh  rich ; 
and  the  diligent  man  or  woman  is  attentive  to  small 
things  as  well  as  great.  The  things  may  appear  very 
little  and  insignificant,  yet  attention  to  them  is  as  nec- 
essary as  to  matters  of  greater  moment. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  humblest  of  coins — a  penn5^ 
AVhat  is  the  use  of  that  little  piece  of  copper — a  solita- 
ry penny  ?  What  can  it  buy  ?  Of  what  use  is  it  ?  It 
is  half  the  price  of  a  glass  of  beer.  It  is  the  price  of  a 
box  of  matches.  It  is  only  fit  for  giving  to  a  beggar. 
And  yet  how  much  of  human  happiness  depends  upon 
the  spending  of  the  penny  well ! 

A  man  may  work  hard,  and  earn  high  wages ;  but 
if  he  allow  the  pennies,  which  are  the  result  of  hard 
work,  to  slip  out  of  his  fingers  —  some  going  to  the 
beer-shop,  some  this  way,  and.  some  that — he  will  find 
that  his  life  of  liard  work  is  little  raised  above  a  life  of 
animal  drudgery.  On  the  other  hand,  if  he  take  care 
of  the  pennies,  putting  some  weekly  into  a  benefit  so- 
ciety or  an  insurance  fund,  others  into  a  savings-bank, 
and  confide  the  rest  to  his  wife  to  be  carefully  laid 
out,  with  a  view  to  the  comfortable  maintenance  and 
culture  of  his  family,  he  will  soon  find  that  his  atten- 
tion to  small  matters  will  abundantly  repay  him,  in 
increasing  means,  in  comfort  at  home,  and  in  a  mind 
comparatively  free  from  fears  as  to  the  future. 

All  savings  are  made  up  of  little  things.  "Many  a 
little  makes  a  mickle."  Many  a  penny  makes  a  pound. 
A  penny  saved  is  the  seed  of  pounds  saved.  And 
pounds  saved  means  comfort,  plenty,  wealth,  and  inde- 
pendence. But  tlie  penny  must  be  earned  honestly. 
It  is  said  that  a  penny  earned  honestly  is  better  than  a 
shilling  given.  A  Scotch  proverb  says,  "  The  gear  that 
is  gifted  is  never  sae  sweet  as  tlie  gear  that  is  won." 


182  The  Thrifty  Woman.  [CHAP.  IX. 

What  though  the  penny  be  black?  "The  smith  and 
liis  penny  are  both  black."  But  the  penny  earned  by 
the  smith  is  an  honest  one. 

If  a  man  does  not  know  how  to  save  his  pennies  or 
his  pounds,  his  nose  will  always  be  kept  to  the  grind- 
stone. Want  may  come  npon  him  any  day,  "like  an 
armed  man."  Careful  saving  acts  like  magic:  once 
begun,  it  grows  into  a  habit.  It  gives  a  man  a  feeling 
of  satisfaction,  of  strength,  of  security.  The  pennies 
he  has  put  aside  in  his  savings-box,  or  in  the  savings- 
bank,  give  him  an  assurance  of  comfort  in  sickness,  or 
of  rest  in  old  age.  The  man  who  saves  has  something 
to  weather-fend  him  against  want ;  while  the  man  who 
saves  not  has  nothing  between  him  and  bitter,  biting 
poverty. 

A  man  may  be  disposed  to  save  money,  and  lay  it 
by  for  sickness  or  for  other  purposes ;  but  he  can  not 
do  this  unless  his  wife  lets  him,  or  helps  him.  A  pru- 
dent, frugal,  thrifty  woman  is  a  crown  of  glory  to  her 
husband.  She  helps  him  in  all  his  good  resolutions; 
she  may,  by  quiet  and  gentle  encouragement,  bring  out 
his  better  qualities;  and  by  her  example  she  may  im- 
plant in  him  noble  principles,  which  are  the  seeds  of  the 
highest  practical  virtues. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Owen,  formerly  of  Bilston  —  a  good 
friend  and  adviser  of  working-people — used  to  tell  a 
story  of  a  man  who  was  not  an  economist,  but  was  en- 
abled to  become  so  by  the  example  of  his  wife.  The 
man  was  a  calico-printer  at  Manchester,  and  he  was 
persuaded  by  his  wife,  on  their  wedding-day,  to  allow 
her  two  half-pints  of  ale  a  day,  as  her  share.  He  rath- 
er winced  at  the  bargain,  for,  though  a  drinker  himself, 
he  would  have  preferred  a  perfectly  sober  wife.  They 
both  worked  hard;  and  he,  poor  man,  was  seldom  out 
of  the  public-house  as  soon  as  the  factory  was  closed. 

She  liad  her  daily  pint,  and  he,  perhaps,  had  his  two 


CHAP.  IX.]  ^  ■  A  Helpful  Wife.  183 

or  three  quarts, and  neither  interfered  with  the  other; 
except  that,  at  odd  times,  she  succeeded,  by  dint  of 
one  little  gentle  artifice  or  another,  to  win  him  home 
an  hour  or  two  earlier  at  night;  and  now  and  then,  to 
spend  an  entire  evening  in  his  own  house.  They  had 
been  married  a  year,  and  on  the  morning  of  their  wed- 
ding anniversary,  the  husband  looked  askance  at  her 
neat  and  comely  person  with  some  shade  of  remorse, 
as  he  said,  "Mary,  we've  had  no  holiday  since  we  were 
wed ;  and,  only  that  I  have  not  a  penny  in  the  world, 
we'd  take  a  jaunt  down  to  the  village  to  see  thee 
mother." 

"  Wouldst  like  to  go,  John  ?"  said  she,  softly,  between 
a  smile  and  a  tear,  so  glad  to  hear  him  speak  so  kind- 
ly— so  like  old  times.  "If  thee'd  like  to  go,  John,  I'll 
stand  treat." 

"Thou  stand  treat!"  said  he,  with  half  a  sneer: 
"  hast  got  a  fortun,  wench  ?" 

"  Nay,"  said  she,  "  but  I've  gotten  the  pint  o'  ale." 

"Gotten  what?"  said  he. 

"  The  pint  o'  ale  !"  said  she. 

John  still  didn't  understand  her,  till  the  faithful 
creature  reached  down  an  old  stocking  from  under  a 
loose  brick  up  the  chimney,  and  counted  out  her  daily 
pint  of  ale  in  the  shape  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
threepences,  i.  e.,  four  pounds  four  shillings  and  six- 
pence, and  put  them  into  his  hand,  exclaiming, "  Thou 
shalt  have  thee  holiday,  John  !" 

John  was  ashamed,  astonished,  conscience -stricken, 
charmed,  and  wouldn't  touch  it.  "Hasn't  thee  had 
thy  share  ?  Then  I'll  ha'  no  more  !"  lie  said.  He  kept 
his  word.  They  kept  their  wedding-day  with  mother; 
and  the  wife's  little  capital  was  the  nucleus  of  a  se- 
ries of  frugal  investments,  tliat  ultimately  swelled  out 
into  a  shop,  a  factory,  warehouses,  a  country-scat,  car- 
riage, and,  perhaps,  a  Liverpool  mayor. 


184  A  Maris  Daily  Life.  [CHAP.  IX. 

In  the  same  way,  a  workman  of  even  the  humblest 
sort,  whose  prosperity  and  regularity  of  conduct  show 
to  his  fellow- workmen  what  industry,  temperance, 
manly  tenderness,  and  superiority  to  low  and  sensual 
temptation  can  effect,  in  endearing  a  home  which  is 
bright  even  amidst  the  gloom  of  poverty — such  a  man 
does  good  as  well  as  the  most  eloquent  writer  that 
ever  wrote.  If  there  were  a  few  patriarchs  of  the  peo- 
ple such  as  this,  their  beneficial  influence  would  soon 
be  sensibly  felt  by  society  at  large.  A  life  well  spent 
is  worth  any  number  of  speeches;  for  example  is  a 
language  far  more  eloquent  than  words :  it  is  instruc- 
tion in  action — wisdom  at  work. 

A  man's  daily  life  is  the  best  test  of  his  moral  and 
social  state.  Take  two  men,  for  instance,  both  work- 
ing, at  the  same  trade  and  earning  the  same  money ; 
yet  how  different  they  may  be  as  respects  their  actual 
condition  !  The  one  looks  a  free  man ;  the  other  a 
slave.  The  one  lives  in  a  snug  cottage;  the  other  in 
a  mud  hovel.  The  one  has  always  a  decent  coat  to 
liis  back ;  the  other  is  in  rags.  The  children  of  the 
one  are  clean,  well-dressed,  and  at  school ;  the  children 
of  the  other  are  dirty,  filthy,  and  often  in  the  guttei*. 
The  one  possesses  the  ordinary  comforts  of  life,  as  well 
as  many  of  its  pleasures  and  conveniences — perhaps  a 
well-chosen  library  ;  the  other  has  few  of  the  comforts 
of  life,  certainly  no  pleasures,  enjoyments,  nor  books. 
And  yet  these  two  men  earn  the  same  wages.  What 
is  the  cause  of  the  difference  between  them? 

It  is  in  this  :  The  one  man  is  intelligent  and  prudent ; 
the  other  is  the  reverse.  The  one  denies  himself  for 
the  benefit  of  his  wife,  his  family,  and  his  home;  the 
other  denies  himself  nothing,  but  lives  under  the  tyr- 
anny of  evil  habits.  The  one  is  a  sober  man,  and  takes 
pleasure  in  making  his  home  attractive  and  his  family 
comfortable ;  the  other  cares  nothing  for  his  home  and 


CHAP.  IX.]  The  Tico  Workmen.  185 

family,  but  spends  the  greater  part  of  his  earnings  in 
the  gin-shop  or  the  public-house.  The  one  man  looks 
up ;  the  other  looks  down.  The  standard  of  enjoy- 
ment of  the  one  is  high,  and  of  the  other  low.  The 
one  man  likes  books,  which  instruct  and  elevate  his 
mind ;  the  other  likes  drink,  which  tends  to  lower  and 
brutalize  him.  The  one  saves  his  money ;  the  other 
wastes  it. 

"  I  say,  mate,"  said  one  workman  to  another,  as  tliey 
went  home  one  evening  from  their  work,  "  will  you 
tell  me  how  it  is  that  you  contrive  to  get  on  ?  How  it 
is  that  you  manage  to  feed  and  clothe  your  family  as 
you  do,  and  put  money  in  the  penny  bank  besides; 
while  I,  who  have  as  good  wages  as  you,  and  fewer 
children,  can  barely  make  the  ends  meet  ?" 

"Well,  I  will  tell  you;  it  only  consists  in  this  —  in 
taking  care  of  the  pennies  f'' 

"  What !     Is  that  all,  Ransom  ?" 

"Yes,  and  a  good  ' all'  too.  Not  one  in  fifty  knows 
the  secret.     For  instance.  Jack,  you  don't." 

"  How !     I  ?    Let's  see  how  you  make  that  out." 

"Now  you  have  asked  my  secret,  I'll  tell  you  all 
about  it.  But  you  must  not  be  offended  if  I  speak 
plain.     First,  I  pay  nothing  for  my  drink." 

"Nothing?  Then  you  don't  pay  your  shot,  but 
sponge  upon  your  neighbors." 

"Never!  I  drink  water,  which  costs  nothing. 
Drunken  days  have  all  their  to-morrows,  as  the  old 
proverb  says.  I  spare  myself  sore  heads  and  shaky 
hands,  and  save  my  pennies.  Drinking  water  neither 
makes  a  man  sick  nor  in  debt,  nor  his  wife  a  widow. 
And  that,  let  me  tell  you,  makes  a  considerable  differ- 
ence in  our  outgo.  It  may  amount  to  about  half  a 
crown  a  week,  or  seven  pounds  a  year.  That  seven 
pounds  will  clothe  myself  and  children,  while  you  are 
out  at  elbows  and  your  children  iro  barefoot." 


186  Riglds  and  Hahiis.  [CHAP.  IX. 

"  Come,  come,  that's  going  too  far.  I  don't  drink  at 
that  rate.  I  may  take  an  odd  half-pint  now  and  then ; 
but  half  a  crown  a  week  !     Pooh,  pooh  !" 

"  Well,  then,  how  much  did  you  spend  on  drink  last 
Saturday  night  ?     Out  with  it." 

"Let  me  see:  I  had  a  pint  with  Jones;  I  think  I 
had  another  with  Davis,  who  is  just  going  to  Australia; 
and  then  I  went  to  the  lodge." 

"  Well,  how  many  glasses  had  you  there  ?" 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  I  forget.  But  it's  all  stuff  and 
nonsense.  Bill !" 

"  Oh,  you  can't  tell :  you  don't  know  what  you  spent  ? 
I  believe  you.  But  that's  the  way  your  pennies  go, 
my  lad." 

"And  that's  all  your  secret?" 

"  Yes ;  take  care  of  the  penny — that's  all.  Because 
I  save,  I  have,  when  you  want.  It's  very  simple,  isn't 
it?" 

"  Simple,  oh  yes ;  but  there's  nothing  in  it." 

"Yes!  there's  this  in  it:  that  it  has  made  you  ask 
me  the  question,  how  I  manage  to  keep  my  fiimily  so 
comfortably,  and  put  money  in  the  penny  bank,  while 
you,  with  the  same  wages,  can  barely  make  the  ends 
meet.  Money  is  independence,  and  money  is  made  by 
putting  pennies  together.  Besides,  I  work  so  hard  for 
mine — and  so  do  you — that  I  can't  find  it  in  my  heart 
to  waste  a  penny  on  drink,  when  I  can  put  it  beside  a 
few  other  hard-earned  pennies  in  the  bank.  It's  some- 
thing for  a  sore  foot  or  a  rainy  day.  There's  that  in 
it.  Jack ;  and  there's  comfort  also  in  the  thought  that, 
whatever  may  happen  to  me,  I  needn't  beg  nor  go  to 
the  work-house.  The  saving  of  the  penny  makes  me 
feel  a  free  man.  The  man  always  in  debt,  or  without 
a  penny  beforehand,  is  little  better  than  a  slave." 

"But  if  we  had  our  rights,  the  poor  would  not  be  so 
hardly  dealt  with  as  they  now  are." 


CHAP.  IX.]  Influence  of  the  Wife.  187 

"Why,  Jack,  if  you  had  your  rights  to-morroM', 
would  you  put  your  money  back  into  your  pocket  after 
you  had  spent  it? — would  your  rights  give  your  chil- 
dren shoes  and  stockings  when  you  had  chosen  to 
waste  on  beer  what  would  have  bought  them  ?  Would 
your  rights  make  you  or  your  wife  thriftier,  or  your 
hearth-stone  cleaner?  Would  rights  wash  your  chil- 
dren's faces,  and  mend  the  holes  in  your  clothes?  No, 
no,  friend  !  Give  us  our  rights  by  all  means,  but  rights 
are  not  habits,  and  it's  habits  we  want  —  good  habits. 
With  these  we  can  be  free  men  and  independent  men 
noio,  if  we  but  determine  to  be  so.  Good-night,  Jack, 
and  mind  my  secret — it's  nothing  but  taking  care  of 
the  2^eji7iies,  and  the  pounds  will  take  care  of  them- 
selves." 

"  Good-night !"  And  Jack  turned  off  at  the  lane-end 
toward  his  humble  and  dirty  cottage,  in  Main's  Court. 
I  might  introduce  you  to  his  home;  but  "home"  it 
could  scarcely  be  called.  It  was  full  of  squalor  and 
untidiness,  confusion  and  dirty  children,  where  a  slat- 
tern-looking woman  was  scolding.  Ransom's  cottage, 
on  the  contrary,  teas  a  home.  It  was  snug,  trig,  and 
neat;  the  hearth-stone  was  fresh-sanded;  the  wife, 
though  her  hands  were  full  of  work,  was  clean  and 
tidy ;  and  her  husband,  liis  day's  work  over,  could  sit 
down  with  his  children  about  him,  in  peace  and  com- 
fort. 

The  chief  secret  was  now  revealed.  Ransom's  secret 
about  the  penny  was  a  very  good  one,  so  far  as  it 
went.  But  he  had  not  really  told  the  whole  truth. 
He  could  not  venture  to  tell  his  less  fortunate  comrade 
that  the  root  of  all  domestic  prosperity,  the  main-stay 
of  all  domestic  comfort,  is  the  wife ;  and  Ransom's 
wife  was  all  that  a  working-man  could  desire.  There 
can  be  no  thrift,  nor  economy,  nor  comfort  at  home, 
unless  the  wife  lielps;  and  a  working-man's  wife,  more 


188  A  Penmj  a  Day.  [chap.  ix. 

than  any  other  "man's,  for  she  is  wife,,  housekeeper, 
nurse,  and  servant,  all  in  one.  If  she  be  thriftless, 
putting  money  into  her  hands  is  like  pouring  water 
through  a  sieve.  Let  her  be  frugal,  and  she  Avill  make 
her  home  a  place  of  comfort,  and  she  will  also  make 
her  husband's  life  happy,  if  she  do  not  lay  the  founda- 
tion of  his  prosperity  and  fortune. 

One  would  scarcely  expect  that  for  a  penny  a  day  it 
would  be  possible  to  obtain  any  thing  valuable.  And 
yet  it  may  be  easily  shown  how  much  a  penny  a  day, 
carefully  expended,  might  do  toward  securing  a  man's 
independence,  and  providing  his  wife  and  family  against 
the  future  pressure  of  poverty  and  want. 

Take  up  a  prospectus  and  tables  of  a  provident  so- 
ciety, intended  for  the  use  of  those  classes  who  have  a 
penny  a  day  to  spend — that  is,  nearly  all  the  working- 
classes  of  the  country.  It  is  not  necessary  to  specify 
any  particular  society,  because  the  best  all  proceed 
upon  the  same  data — the  results  of  extensive  observa- 
tions and  experience  of  health  and  sickness ;  and  their 
tables  of  rates,  certified  by  public  actuaries,  are  very 
nearly  the  same.  Now,  looking  at  the  tables  of  these 
life  and  sickness  assurance  societies,  let  us  see  what  a 
penny  a  day  can  do. 

1.  For  a  penny  a  day^  a  man  or  woman  of  twenty- 
six  years  of  age  may  secure  the  sum  of  ten  shillings  a 
week  payable  during  the  time  of  sickness,  for  the  whole 
of  life. 

2.  For  a  penny  a  day  (payments  ceasing  at  sixty 
years  of  age),  a  man  or  woman  of  thirty-one  years  of 
age  may  secure  the  sum  of  fifty  pounds  payable  at 
death,  whenever  that  event  may  happen,  even  though 
it  should  be  during  the  week  or  the  month  after  the 
assurance  has  been  effected. 

3.  For  a  penny  a  day,  a  young  man  or  woman  of 
fifteen  may  secure  a  sum  of  one  hundred  pounds,  the 


_^ 


CHAP.  IX.]  The  Power  of  a  Penny.  189 

payment  of  the  penny  a  day  continuing  during  the 
whole  of  life,  but  the  one  hundred  pounds  being  paya- 
ble whenever  death  may  occur. 

4.  For  a  penny  a  day^  a  young  man  or  woman  of 
twenty  may  secure  an  annuity  of  twenty-six  pounds 
per  annum,  or  of  ten  shillings  per  week  for  the  wliole 
of  life,  after  reaching  the  age  of  sixty-five. 

5.  For  a  penny  a  day  —  the  payment  commencing 
from  tlie  birth  of  any  child — a  parent  may  secure  the 
sum  of  twenty  pounds,  payable  on  such  child's  reach- 
ing the  age  of  fourteen  years. 

6.  For  a  penny  a  day,  continued  until  the  child 
reaches  the  age  of  twenty-one  years,  the  sum  of  forty- 
five  pounds  may  be  secured,  to  enable  him  or  her  to 
begin  business,  or  start  housekeeping. 

7.  For  a  penny  a  day,  a  young  man  or  woman  of 
twenty-four  may  secure  the  sum  of  one  hundred  pounds, 
payable  on  reaching  the  age  of  sixty,  with  the  right  of 
withdrawing  four-fifths  of  the  amount  paid  in,  at  any 
time — the  whole  of  the  payments  being  paid  back  in 
event  of  death  occurring  before  the  age  of  sixty. 

Such  is  the  power  of  a  penny  a  day !  Who  would 
liave  thought  it  ?  Yet  it  is  true,  as  any  one  can  prove 
by  looking  at  the  tables  of  the  best  assurance  offices. 
Put  the  penny  a  day  in  the  bank,  and  it  accumulates 
slowly.  Even  there,  however,  it  is  very  nseful.  But 
with  the  assurance  office,  it  immediately  assumes  a 
vast  power.  A  penny  a  day  paid  in  by  the  man  of 
thirty-one  is  worth  sixty  pounds  to  his  wife  and  fam- 
ily in  the  event  of  his  dying  next  month  or  next  year! 
It  is  the  combining  of  small  savings  for  purposes  of 
mutual  assurance,  by  a  large  number  of  persons,  tliat 
gives  to  the  penny  its  enormous  power. 

The  effecting  of  a  life-assurance  by  a  working-man, 
for  the  benefit  of  his  wife  and  children,  is  an  eminently 
unselfish  act.     It  is  a  moral  as  well  as  a  reliirious  trans- 


190  Joseph  Baxendale.  [chap.  ix. 

action.  It  is  "  providing  for  those  of  his  own  house- 
hold." It  is  taking  the  right  step  toward  securing  the 
independence  of  his  family,  after  he,  the  bread-winner, 
has  been  called  away.  This  right  investment  of  the 
pennies  is  the  best  proof  of  practical  virtue,  and  of  the 
honest  forethought  and  integrity  of  a  true  man. 

The  late  Joseph  Baxendale  was  the  constant  friend 
of  the  working-people  who  co-operated  with  him  in  the 
labors  of  his  life.  He  was  a  man  of  strong  common 
sense,  and  might  have  been  styled  the  Franklin  of 
Business.  He  was  full  of  proverbial  wisdom,  and  also 
full  of  practical  help.  He  was  constantly  urging  his., 
servants  to  lay  by  something  for  a  rainy  day,  or  for 
their  support  in  old  age.  He  also  used  to  pension  off 
liis  old  servants  after  they  had  ceased  to  be  able  to 
work. 

He  posted  up  texts  along  his  warehouses,  so  that 
those  who  ran  might  read.  "  Never  despair,"  "  Noth- 
ing without  labor,"  "  He  who  spends  all  he  gets  is  on 
the  way  to  beggary,"  "  Time  lost  can  not  be  regained," 
"  Let  industry,  temperance,  and  economy  be  the  habits 
of  your  lives."  These  texts  were  printed  in  large  type, 
so  that  every  passer-by  might  read  them  ;  while  many 
were  able  to  lay  them  to  heart,  and  to  practice  the  ad- 
vices which  they  enjoined. 

On  other  occasions  Mr.  Baxendale  would  distribute 
among  his  work-people,  or  desire  to  be  set  up  in  his 
warehouses  and  places  of  business,  longer  and  more 
general  maxims.  He  would  desire  these  printed  docu- 
ments to  be  put  up  in  the  offices  of  the  clerks,  or  in 
places  where  men  were  disposed  to  linger,  or  to  take 
their  meals,  or  to  assemble  preparatory  to  work.  They 
were  always  full  of  valuable  advice.  We  copy  one  of 
them,  on  the  importance  of  punctuality  : 

"  Method  is  the  hinge  of  business ;  and  there  is  no 
method  without  punctuality.      Punctuality  is  impor- 


CHAP.  IX.]  Pickford  d;  Co.  191 

tant,  because  it  subserves  the  peace  and  good  temper 
of  a  family.  The  want  of  it  not  only  infringes  on  nec- 
essary duty,  but  sometimes  excludes  this  duty.  The 
calmness  of  mind  which  it  produces  is  another  advan- 
tage of  ])unctuality.  A  disorderly  man  is  always  in  a 
hurry.  He  has  no  time  to  speak  to  you  because  he  is 
going  elsewhere ;  and  when  he  gets  there,  he  is  too 
late  for  his  business,  or  he  must  hurry  away  to  another 
before  he  can  finish  it.  Punctuality  gives  weight  to 
character.  *  Such  a  man  has  made  an  appointment ; 
then  I  know  he  will  keep  it.'  And  this  generates 
punctuality  in  you;  for,  like  other  virtues,  it  propa- 
gates itself.  Servants  and  children  must  be  punctual, 
when  their  leader  is  so.  Appointments,  indeed,  be- 
come debts.  I  owe  you  punctuality,  if  I  have  made 
an  appointment  with  you,  and  have  no  right  to  throw 
away  your  time,  if  I  do  my  own." 

Some  may  inquire,  "Who  was  Joseph  Baxendale?" 
He  was,  in  fact,  Pickford  &  Co.,  the  name  of  a  firm 
known  all  over  England,  as  well  as  throughout  the 
Continent.  Mr.  Baxendale  was  the  son  of  a  physician 
at  Lancaster.  He  received  a  good  education,  went  into 
the  cotton  trade,  and  came  up  to  London  to  repre- 
sent the  firm  with  which  he  was  connected.  A  period 
of  commercial  pressure  having  occurred,  he  desired  to 
leave  the  cotton  trade  and  to  enter  upon  some  other 
business.  Mr.  Pickford  had  already  begun  the  busi- 
ness of  a  carrier,  but  he  was  hampered  by  want  of 
money.  Mr.  Baxendale  helped  him  with  capital,  and 
for  a  time  remained  a  sleeping  partner;  but  finding 
that  the  business  made  no  progress,  principally  for 
want  of  management,  he  eventually  determined  to 
take  the  active  part  in  working  and  managing  the 
concern. 

He  threw  his  whole  energies  into  the  firm  of  Pick- 
ford &  Co.      He  reorganized  the  agencies,  and  extend- 


192  Joseph  Baxendale.  [chap.  IX. 

cd  them  throughout  the  kingdom.  He  put  flying  vans 
upon  the  road,  equal  to  our  express  trains ;  and  slow 
vans,  equal  to  our  goods  trains.  He  utilized  the  canals 
to  a  large  extent,  j^utting  on  flying  boats  between  all 
the  larger  towns.  Indeed,  the  roads  of  the  country 
were  then  so  bad  that  in  certain  seasons  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  convey  merchandise  from  one  part  of  the 
country  to  another. 

The  carrying-on  of  such  an  important  and  extensive 
business  required  much  capital,  great  energy,  and  first- 
rate  business  management.  The  horses  necessary  to 
carry  on  the  trafiic  were  increased  from  about  fifty, 
which  they  were  in  the  time  of  Pickford,  to  more  than 
a  thousand ;  for  relays  of  horses  were  necessary  at  all 
the  stopping-places  on  the  line  of  trafiic,  between  Lon- 
don and  Manchester,  between  London  and  Exeter,  and 
between  London  and  Edinburgh.  A  ship -building 
yard  was  established,  where  all  the  boats,  flying  and 
slow,  required  to  carry  on  the  business,  were  construct- 
ed at  Mr.  Baxendale's  expense. 

The  carrying  business  required  a  great  deal  of  per- 
sonal supervision.  Only  a  man  of  determined  spirit 
and  indomitable  energy  could  have  done  it.  He  had 
a  flying  boat  in  which  he  rapidly  passed  along  the 
canals,  seeing  that  the  men  were  at  their  posts,  that 
the  agents  were  at  work,  and  the  trafiic  duly  provided 
for.  He  did  this  by  night  as  well  as  by  clay.  At 
other  times,  he  would  fly  along  the  roads  in  his  special 
traveling -carriage,  always  paying  the  highest  prices 
to  the  innkeepers,  in  order  that  he  might  secure  the 
best  horses,  and  avoid  delay  and  loss  of  time.  He 
would  overtake  his  vans  and  see  that  his  men  were 
sober,  and  that  they  were  well  forward  at  the  sta- 
tions along  the  road ;  that  their  blunderbusses  were 
loaded  (for  highway  robbery  was  then  one  of  the 
risks   of  traveling   by  road) ;    that   the   agents  were 


CHAP.  IX.]  Roads  and  Railways.  193 

doing  their  duty;  and  that  every  thing  was  in  proper 
order. 

Besides  overtaking  the  vans,  he  would  sometimes 
travel  by  a  by-road — for  he  knew  nearly  every  road  in 
the  country — push  on,  and  then  double  back  upon  his 
drivers,  who  never  knew  whether  he  was  before  or  be- 
hind them;  and  thus  general  vigilance  became  the 
rule  of  all.  By  these  and  various  other  means  the 
business  of  the  concern  was  admirably  done,  and  the 
carrying  trade  of  the  country  was  brought  to  as  high 
a  state  of  perfection  as  was  compatible  with  the  then 
state  of  the  roads  and  canals. 

When  all  this  had  been  accomplished,  the  disturbing 
influence  of  railways  began.  "  I  see  mischief  in  these 
confounded  iron  roads,"  said  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater. 
But  the  time  for  railways  had  arrived,  and  they  could 
not  be  postponed.  The  first  railroads  were  used  for 
the  conveyance  of  coals  from  the  pits  to  the  sea-side, 
where  they  were  shipped  for  London.  Then  it  was 
proposed  that  they  should  be  laid  for  the  conveyance 
of  goods  from  town  to  town ;  and  the  largest  traffic 
being  in  Lancashire,  one  of  the-  first  railways  was 
constructed  between  Liverpool  and  Manchester,  from 
which  towns  they  were  afterward  constructed  in  all 
directions  throughout  the  country. 

Had  Mr.  Baxendale  resisted  the  new  means  of  con- 
veyance, he  Avould,  before  long,  have  been  driven  off 
the  road.  But  he  clearly  foresaw  the  ultimate  triumph 
of  the  railway  system;  and  he  went  with  it,  instead  of 
against  it.  lie  relieved  the  Liverpool  and  Manchester 
Company  of  a  great  deal  of  trouble  by  undertaking  to 
manage  their  goods  traffic,  and  by  collecting  and  de- 
livering it  at  both  towns.  Then,  when  the  railways 
from  Warrington  to  Birmingham,  and  from  Birming- 
ham to  London  were  projected,  he  gave  evidence  be- 
fore the  committees  of  Parliament  in  proof  of  the  esti- 

9 


194  Joseph  Baxendale.  [CHAP.  IX. 

mated  traffic.  And  when  the  lines  were  made,  he 
transferred  the  goods  from  his  carrying  vans  to  the 
railway.  He  thus  became  a  great  railway  carrier,  col- 
Iectin<2j  and  deliverincj  o-oods  in  all  the  cities  and  towns 
served  by  the  railways  which  had  by  that  time  become 
established. 

He  also  became  a  large  share -holder  in  railways. 
His  status  in  the  South-eastern  line  was  so  great  that 
he  was  invited  to  become  chairman  of  the  company. 
He  was  instrumental,  in  conjunction  with  the  late  Sir 
William  Cubitt,  in  pushing  on  the  line  to  Dover.  But 
the  Dover  Harbor  Board  being  found  too  stingy  in 
giving  accommodation  to  the  traffic,  and  too  grasping 
in  their  charges  for  harbor  dues,  Mr.  Baxendale  at 
once  proceeded,  on  his  own  responsibility,  to  purchase 
Folkestone  Harbor  as  the  port  of  the  South-eastern 
Company.  He  next  proceeded  to  get  up  the  Boulogne 
and  Amiens  Railway,  which  was  for  the  most  part 
constructed  with  English  capital ;  and  the  direct  line 
from  London  to  Paris  was  thus  completed. 

His  arduous  labors  in  connection  with  his  own  busi- 
ness, as  well  as  with  railway  extension,  having  thrown 
him  into  ill  health,  he  went  abroad  for  repose.  While 
absent,  a  faction  was  got  up  in  Liverpool  for  the  pur- 
pose of  appointing  another  chairman  in  his  stead;  and 
though  he  was  unseated  by  a  trick,  he  himself  accepted 
his  dismissal  with  pleasure.  His  sons  were  now  able 
to  help  him  in  the  conduct  of  his  business,  though  he 
continued  to  the  close  of  his  life  to  take  an  interest  in 
every  thing  that  was  going  on.  He  was  never  weary 
of  well-doing ;  he  never  rested  in  giving  his  good  ad- 
vice, the  results  of  his  large  experience,  to  the  assist- 
ants, clerks,  and  working-men  employed  in  his  various 
offices.  We  conclude  our  brief  notice  of  his  life  by 
giving  another  of  his  "  Run-and-Read  Sermons,"  which 
he  distributed  plentifully  among  his  employes^  and  had 


CHAP.  IX.l  Business  Maxims.  195 

affixed  in  various  portions  of  his  ■warehouses.  It  is 
entitled  "  Good  Maxims  and  Advice  :" 

"An  old  servant  of  the  concern  observed,  a  short 
time  ago,  that  he  began  life  in  the  employ  of  Pickford, 
upon  low  wages,  and  that  by  frugality  and  industry 
lie  had  gained  a  competency.  His  maxim  was,  never 
to  spend  more  than  ninepence  out  of  every  shilling. 
Although  this  may  appear  a  trifle,  recollect  that  it  is 
live  shillings  in  twenty,  ten  pounds  in  forty. 

"  Suppose  a  young  man  to  pursue  this  system :  Let 
liini  obtain  the  first  twenty  pounds,  add  each  year  ten 
pounds,  he  will  at  the  end  of  six  years  be  possessed  of 
upward  of  one  hundred  pounds.  If  in  early  life  the 
opportunity  is  suftered  to  pass,  it  rarely  happens  that 
one  can  save  money  when  more  advanced  in  years. 

"  The  concern  in  which  we  are  engaged  has  been  de- 
frauded by  those  who  have  for  thirty  years  received 
salaries,  the  savings  from  which,  had  they  followed  the 
plan  that  is  recommended,  would  have  placed  them  in 
situations  of  comparative  affluence;  and  we  should  now 
liave  seen  them  respectable  members  of  society. 

"Ui^on  industry  and  frugality  our  well-doing  de- 
pends. It  is  not  great  talents,  but  steady  application, 
that  is  required.  There  are  none  of  us  that  may  not 
obtain  stations  of  respectability.  '  God  helps  them 
that  help  themselves.'  *He  that  follows  pleasure  in- 
stead of  business  will  shortly  have  no  business  to  fol- 
low.' 

"I  frequently  complain  of  what  may  be  called  tri- 
fles ;  but  from  these  arising  frequently,  we  are  at  length 
lost.  Let  each  attend  to  his  respective  duties;  keep 
the  appointed  hours,  and  never  defer  till  to-morrow 
what  may  be  done  to-day. 

"If  business  is  more  pressing  tlian  usual,  give  addi- 
tional time,  that  your  own  accounts  may  not  fall  into 
confusion,  and  that  you  may  not  be  the  means  of  cans- 


196  Busi7iess  Maxims.  [chap.  ix. 

ing  delay  and  trouble  to  others.  It  often  happens  that 
the  negligence  of  individuals  throws  additional  labor 
upon  those  who  are  anxious  for  regularity. 

"  Hiding:  or  screeninir  the  faults  or  errors  of  others  is 
a  system  that  has  prevailed  and  caused  much  loss  and 
injury  —  frequently  to  the  offending  party,  always  to 
the  employer. 

"Late  occurrences  lead  me  to  draw  your  attention 
to  this  subject :  it  is  important  in  every  sense,  both  as 
regards  your  public  and  private  stations.  There  is 
nothing  more  worthy  of  a  man  than  truth ;  nothing 
makes  him  feel  himself  so  despicable  as  a  lie.  Kecol- 
lect  that  men  act  lies  without  speaking  them,  and  that 
all  false  appearances  are  lies. 

"  He,  therefore,  who,  seeing  his  employer  injured,  neg- 
lects to  make  it  known,  is  equally  guilty — with  this  ad- 
dition, that  he  is  practicing  a  lie.  Want  of  punctuality 
is  a  lie. 

"Speak  and  act  openly  on  all  occasions.  Errors  will 
be  fewer,  and  labor  will  be  decreased. 

"It  seldom  happens  that  we  can  do  any  important 
services ;  but  small  services  are  always  in  use.  Take, 
therefore,  every  opportunity  of  assisting  each  other — 
you  are  then  most  effectually  serving  your  employers, 
as  "well  as  keeping  up  a  spirit  of  cordiality  and  good- 
will among  yourselves. 

"A  good  Christian  must  be  a  good  servant.  What- 
ever your  lot  in  life  may  be,  above  all  things  remem- 
ber that  *  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  wis- 
dom.' " 


CHAPTER  X. 

MASTEKS   AND   MElir. 

*'  The  sweat  of  industry  would  dry,  and  die, 
But  for  the  end  it  works  to." — ISiiakspeare. 

*'  IVFan  is  a  shop  of  rules,  a  well-truss'd  pack, 
Whose  every  parcel  underwrites  a  law." — George  Herbert. 

"Care  preserves  what  Industry  gains.  He  who  attends  to  his  busi- 
ness diligently,  but  not  carefully,  throws  away  with  one  hand  what  he 
gathers  with  the  other." — Colton. 

"The  acquisition  of  property,  the  accumulation  of  capital,  is  already 
in  the  power  of  the  better-paid  working-class ;  and  legislation  has  but 
few  further  facilities  to  give,  or  obstacles  to  remove.  Their  savings 
are  now  so  large  that  only  soberer  habits  and  sounder  sense  are  need- 
ed to  make  them  independent  capitalists  in  less  than  half  a  life-time." 
— W.  K.  Greg. 

EMPLOYERS  can  do  a  great  deal  toward  promot- 
ing habits  of  thrift,  prudence,  and  sobriety  among 
their  work-people.  Though  the  working-man  does  not 
like  to  be  patronized,  he  has  no  objections  to  be  helped. 
We  have  already  seen  that  individuals  can  do  much ; 
they  can  cultivate  habits  of  economy,  anji  lay  by  a  cer- 
tain portion  of  their  earnings  for  help  in  time  of  need. 
But  they  want  encouragement  and  assistance.  They 
want  sympathy;  they  want  help. 

If  masters  fully  understood  the  immense  amount  of 
influence  wliich  they  possess,  they  would  extend  their 
sympathy  and  confidence  to  their  workmen,  which 
would  cost  tliem  so  very  little,  and  profit  them  so  very 
much.  We  know  of  no  instance  where  an  employer 
lias  displayed  a  concern  for  the  social  well-being  and 
improvement  of  liis  workmen,  in  which  he  has  not 
been  repaid  by  their  increased  respect  and  zeal  on  his 


198  Want  of  Sympathy.  [chap.  x. 

behalf.  He  may,  for  instance,  arrange  that  wages  shall 
not  be  paid  so  as  to  drive  them  into  the  market  late 
on  Saturday  nights,  when  they  are  often  under  the 
necessity  of  making  their  weekly  purchases  at  a  great 
disadvantage.  Of  course,  workmen  who  possess  a  lit- 
tle store  of  savings  might  make  their  purchases  at 
greater  advantage  at  any  other  time.  The  employer 
might  also  avoid  paying  wages  in  public -houses,  and 
thus  keep  his  workmen  out  of  the  way  of  incurring  an 
expenditure  upon  drink,  that  might  prove  so  hurtful. 

But  masters  can  do  more  than  this.  They  can  act- 
ively aid  their  workmen  in  the  formation  of  prudent 
liabits  by  establishing  savings-banks  for  men  and  wom- 
en, and  penny  banks  for  boys  and  girls;  by  encoura- 
ging the  formation  of  provident  clubs  and  building  so- 
cieties, of  provision  and  clothing  clubs,  and  in  many 
other  ways.  They  might  also  distribute  among  them, 
Avithout  any  officious  interference,  good  counsel  as  to 
the  manner  in  which  they  might  make  the  best  use  of 
tlieir  wages.  Many  large  employers  have  already  ac- 
complished much  practical  good  by  encouraging  the 
formation  of  provident  institutions  —  in  which  they 
have  never  failed  to  secure  tlie  respect,  and  generally 
the  co-operation,  of  their  workmen. 

At  the  same  time  there  is  much  want  of  sympathy 
between  masters  and  men.  In  fact,  want  of  sympath)^ 
pervades  all  classes — the  poorer,  the  working,  the  mid- 
dle, and  the  upper  classes.  There  are  many  social  gaps 
between  them,  which  can  not  yet  be  crossed,  which  can 
not  yet  be  united.  "  If  I  were  to  be  asked,"  said  Judge 
Talfourd,  on  Avhom  Death  was  at  the  moment  laying 
his  hand, "  what  is  the  great  want  of  English  society 
— to  mingle  class  with  class — I  would  say,  in  one  word, 
the  want  is  the  iGant  of  sympathy.''''  A  great  truth, 
but  not  yet  appreciated.  It  is  the  old  truth,  on  which 
Christianity  is  based,  of  "Love  one  another" — a  sim- 


CHAP,  z.]  Masters  and  Servants.  199 

pie  saying,  but  containing  within  it  a  Gospel  sufficient 
to  renovate  the  world.  But  where  men  are  so  split 
and  divided  into  classes,  and  are  so  far  removed  that 
they  can  scarcely  be  said  to  know  one  another,  they- 
can  not  have  a  due  social  regard  and  consideration, 
much  less  a  genuine  sympathy  and  affection,  for  each 
other. 

Charity  can  not  remedy  the  evil.  Giving  money, 
blankets,  coals,  and  such-like  to  the  poor — where  the 
spirit  of  sympathy  is  wanting — does  not  amount  to 
much.  The  charity  of  most  of  the  Lord  and  Lady 
Bountifuls  begins  with  money,  and  ends  there.  The 
fellow-feeling  is  absent.  The  poor  are  not  dealt  with  as 
if  they  belonged  to  the  same  common  family  of  man, 
or  as  if  the  same  human  heart  beat  in  their  breasts. 

Masters  and  servants  live  in  the  same  unsympathetic 
state.  "Each  for  himself"  is  their  motto.  "I  don't 
care  who  sinks,  so  that  I  swim."  A  man  at  an  inn 
was  roused  from  his  slumber:  "There  is  a  fire  at  the 
bottom  of  the  street,"  said  the  waiter.  "Don't  dis- 
turb one,''''  said  the  traveler,  "  until  the  next  house  is 
burning."  An  employer  said  to  his  "hands,"  "You 
try  to  get  all  you  can  out  of  me,  and  I  try  to  get  all 
I  can  out  of  you."  But  this  vf'iW  never  do.  The  man 
who  has  any  sympathy  in  him  can  not  allow  such  con- 
siderations to  overrule  his  better  nature.  He  must  see 
the  brighter  side  of  humanity  ever  turned  toward  him. 
"Always  to  think  the  worst,"  said  Lord  Bolingbroke, 
"  I  have  ever  found  the  mark  of  a  mean  spirit  and  a 
base  soul." 

On  the  other  hand,  tlie  operative  class  consider  their 
interests  to  be  quite  distinct  from  those  of  the  master 
class.  They  want  to  get  as  much  for  their  labor  as 
possible.  They  want  labor  to  be  dear  that  they  may 
secure  high  wages.  Thus,  there  being  no  mutual  sym- 
pathy nor  friendly  feeling  between  the  two  classes — but 


200  Christian  Sympatlnj,  [chap.  x. 

only  money  considerations — collisions  are  frequent,  and 
strikes  occur.  Both  classes,  backed  by  their  fellows, 
determine  to  "  fight  it  out,"  and  hence  we  have  such 
destructive  strikes  as  those  of  Preston,  Newcastle,  Lon- 
don, and  South  Wales. 

The  great  end  of  both  is  gain,  worldly  gain,  v/hich 
sometimes  involves  a  terrible  final  loss.  A  general 
suspicion  of  each  other  spreads,  and  society  becomes 
cankered  to  the  core.  The  remedy  is  only  to  be  found 
in  the  cherishment  of  a  larger  Christian  sympathy  and 
more  genuine  benevolence.  Thus  only  can  the  breath 
of  society  be  sweetened  and  purified.  Money  gifts 
avail  nothing,  as  between  rich  and  poor.  Unless  there 
is  a  soul  of  goodness,  and  a  real  human  fellowship  be- 
tween them,  the  mischief  and  the  curse  which  the  ex- 
cellent Judge  Talfourd  lamented  with  his  dying  breath 
w'ill  never  be  overcome. 

Some  allege  that  this  want  of  sympathy  arises,  for 
the  most  part,  from  the  evils  of  competition.  It  is 
"  heartless,"  "  selfish,"  "  mischievous,"  "  ruinous,"  and 
so  on.  It  is  said  to  produce  misery  and  poverty  to  the 
million.  It  is  charged  with  lowering  prices,  or  almost 
in  the  same  breath  with  raising  them.  Competition 
has  a  broad  back,  and  can  bear  any  amount  of  burdens. 

And  yet  there  is  something  to  be  said  for  competi- 
tion, as  well  as  against  it.  It  is  a  struggle — that  must 
be  admitted.  All  life  is  a  struggle.  Among  work- 
men, competition  is  a  struggle  to  advance  toward 
higher  wages.  Among  masters,  to  make  the  highest 
profits.  Among  writers,  preachers,  and  politicians,  it 
is  a  struggle  to  succeed — to  gain  glory,  reputation,  or 
income.  Like  every  thing  human,  it  has  a  mixture  of 
evil  in  it.  If  one  man  prospers  more  than  others,  or  if 
some  classes  of  men  prosper  more  than  others,  they  leave 
other  classes  of  men  behind  them.  Not  that  they  leave 
those  others  Avorse,  but  that  they  themselves  advance. 


CHAP.  X.]  Competition.  201 

Put  a  stop  to  competition,  and  you  merely  check  the 
progress  of  individuals  and  of  classes.  You  preserve 
a  dead  uniform  level.  You  stereotype  society,  and  its 
several  orders  and  conditions.  The  motive  for  emu- 
lation is  taken  away,  and  caste,  -with  all  its  mischiefs, 
is  perpetuated.  Stop  competition,  and  you  stop  the 
struggle  of  individualism.  You  also  stop  the  advance- 
ment of  individualism,  and,  through  that,  of  society  at 
large. 

Under  competition,  the  lazy  man  is  put  under  the 
necessity  of  exerting  himself;  and  if  he  will  not  exert 
himself,  he  must  fall  behind.  If  he  do  not  work,  nei- 
ther shall  he  eat.  My  lazy  friend,  you  must  not  look 
to  me  to  do  ray  share  of  the  world's  work  and  yours 
too  !  You  must  do  your  own  fair  share  of  work,  save 
your  own  money,  and  not  look  to  me  and  to  others  to 
keep  you  out  of  the  poor-house.  There  is  enough  for 
all;  but  do  your  own  share  of  work  you  must. 

Success  grows  out  of  struggles  to  overcome  difficul- 
ties. If  there  were  no  difficulties,  there  would  be  no 
success.  If  there  were  nothing  to  struggle  or  compete 
for,  there  would  be  nothing  achieved.  It  is  well,  there- 
fore, that  men  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  exert- 
ing themselves.  In  this  necessity  for  exertion  we  find 
the  chief  source  of  human  advancement — the  advance- 
ment of  individuals  as  of  nations.  It  has  led  to  most 
of  the  splendid  mechanical  inventions  and  improve- 
ments of  the  age.  It  has  stimulated  the  ship-builder, 
the  merchant,  the  manufacturer,  the  machinist,  the 
tradesman,  the  skilled  workman.  In  all  departments 
of  productive  industry,  it  has  been  the  moving  power. 
It  has  developed  the  resources  of  this  and  of  other 
countries — the  resources  of  the  soil,  and  the  character 
and  qualities  of  the  men  who  dwell  upon  it.  It  seems 
to  be  absolutely  necessary  for  the  purpose  of  stimula- 
ting the  growth  and  culture  of  every  individual.     It  is 

9- 


202  What  Capital  Represents.   *      [chap.  x. 

deeply  rooted  in  man,  leading  liini  ever  to  seek  after, 
and  endeavor  to  realize,  something  better  and  higher 
than  he  has  yet  attained. 

Of  course,  man  is  much  more  than  a  comj^eting  be- 
ing. That  is  only  one  of  his  characteristics,  and  not 
the  highest  or  noblest.  He  has  sensibilities,  sympa- 
thies, and  aspirations,  which  should  induce  him  to  unite 
and  co-operate  with  others  in  works  for  the  common 
good.  With  unfettered  individualism,  there  may  and 
there  ought  to  be  beneficent  co-operation  for  the  gen- 
eral happiness.  Men  may  unite  to  labor,  to  produce, 
and  to  share  with  each  other  the  fruits  of  their  cor- 
porate industry.  But  under  any  circumstances  there 
will  be  the  instinct  of  competition,  the  opportunities 
for  competition,  and,  though  mixed  with  necessary  evil, 
there  will  be  the  ultimate  advantages  of  competition. 

One  of  the  results  of  industry  and  thrift  is  the  accu- 
mulation of  capital.  Capital  represents  the  self-denial, 
the  providence,  and  the  enterprise  of  the  past.  The 
most  successful  accumulators  of  capital  have  in  all 
times  risen  from  the  ranks  of  labor  itself;  they  are 
w^orking-men  who  have  shot  ahead  of  their  fellows, 
and  who  now  give  employment  instead  of  receiving  it. 
These  persons — who  are  not  the  less  working-men  be- 
cause they  have  ceased  to  be  manual  laborers — by  cre- 
ating and  extending  the  sphere  of  productive  industry, 
must  be  regarded  as  among  the  most  effective  benefac- 
tors of  the  people,  as  they  unquestionably  are  among 
the  principal  sources  of  the  power  and  wealth  of  any 
nation.  Without  the  capital  accumulated  by  their 
thrift  during  many  generations,  the  lot  of  the  artisan 
would  be  most  precarious. 

There  is  not  a  mechanic  but  has  the  use  of  the  mon- 
ey of  the  master  who  employs  him.  When  the  unskill- 
ed laborer  lays  down  his  spade,  he  leaves  idle  a  capi- 
tal worth  eighteen-pence  ;  but  when  a  skilled  artisan  or 


CHAP.  X.]  Workmen  and  Umj^IoTjers.  203 

mechanic  leaves  his  mill  or  his  "workshop,  he  leaves  idle 
a  capital  of  from  a  hundred  to  two  hundred  pounds 
per  man.  Nor  does  the  skilled  workman  run  any  risk 
whatever  as  regards  the  sums  invested,  though  he  virt- 
ually shares  the  profits  in  the  shape  of  the  wages  paid 
for  his  labor.  The  profit  which  remains  is  tlie  master's 
return  for  his  management  and  his  risks.  It  is  well 
known,  however,  that  the  risks  are  not  always  covered, 
as  the  Gazette  in  bad  times  abundantly  demonstrates. 

The  workman  in  good  employment  is  not  liable  to 
losses  by  bad  debts ;  he  has  no  obsolete  machinery, 
from  time  to  time,  left  useless  on  his  hands ;  and  he 
has  no  anxiety  about  finding  a  market  for  his  goods, 
nor  fears  respecting  fluctuations  in  the  price  of  the 
raw  material.  These  are  important  advantages  in  his 
favor,  which  he  does  not  usually  take  into  account. 
It  is  true,  he  suffers  if  trade  is  bad,  but  he  earns  high 
wages  if  it  is  good :  he  can  then  save  money,  if  he 
chooses  to  do  so.  He  may  be  said  to  participate  in 
the  adversity  or  prosperity  of  his  firm,  but  without  in- 
curring any  of  the  liabilities  of  partnership. 

Mr.  Carlyle  has  given  a  curious  account  of  the  great 
English  manufacturer  :  "  Plugson,  of  St.  Dolly  Under- 
shot, buccaneer-like,  says  to  his  men,  *  Noble  spinners, 
this  is  the  hundred  thousand  we  have  gained,  wherein 
I  mean  to  dwell  and  plant  my  vineyards.  The  hun- 
dred thousand  is  mine,  the  three-and-sixpence  daily 
was  yours.  Adieu,  noble  spinners !  drink  my  health 
with  this  groat  each,  which  I  give  you  over  and 
above  !' " 

This  account  of  the  manufacturing  buccaneer  is  a 
picture  drawn  by  a  man  of  genius  from  his  imagina- 
tion. There  are  probably  many  readers  who  believe 
the  picture  to  be  drawn  from  fact.  There  may,  of 
course,  be  masters  who  are  buccaneers ;  but  there  are 
also  masters  who  arc  not  buccaneers.     There  are  dis- 


204  The  Ashworths.  [chap.  x. 

honest  manufacturers,  as  there  are  dishonest  literary- 
men,  dishonest  2:)ublicans,  dislionest  tradesmen.  But 
we  must  believe  that  in  all  occupations  honesty  is  the 
rule,  and  dishonesty  the  excej^tion.  At  all  events,  it 
is  better  that  we  should  know  what  the  manufacturers 
really  are  from  fact  rather  than  from  fiction. 

Let  us  first  take  a  large  manufacturing  firm,  or,  rath- 
er, series  of  firms,  well  known  in  South  Lancashire. 
We  mean  the  cotton-spinning  mills  of  the  Messrs.  Ash- 
worth  at  Egerton  and  New  Eagley.  They  have  been 
in  existence  for  more  than  seventy  years.  They  have 
been  repeatedly  enlarged,  and  increasing  numbers  of 
work-people  have  been  employed  at  the  uniform  wages 
paid  throughout  the  district.  Workmen  earn  from  sev- 
enteen shillings  to  two  pounds  a  week.  Women  weav- 
ers can  earn  as  much  as  twenty-one  shillings  a  week. 
Where  the  parents  have  children,  the  united  earnings 
of  families  amount  to  as  much  as  from  one  hundred 
and  fifty  to  two  hundred  pounds  a  year. 

Then,  as  to  what  the  Ashworths  have  done  for  the 
benefit  of  their  work-people.  Schooling,  by  means  of 
mutual-instruction  classes,  was  in  operation  from  the 
first;  but  about  the  year  1825,  when  the  works  were 
greatly  enlarged,  and  the  population  was  considerably 
increased,  a  day  school  was  opened  for  children,  which 
was  used  as  an  evening  school  for  young  men,  as  well 
as  for  a  Sunday-school.  The  continued  extension  of 
the  works  led  to  an  enlargement  of  the  school  accom- 
modation ;  and  while  this  was  being  provided,  arrange- 
ments were  made  for  a  news-room,  library,  and  for  the 
performance  of  Divine  worship  on  Sundays.  A  cricket- 
ground  was  also  provided  for  the  use  of  young  people. 

Misgivings  were  not  unfrequentl}''  expressed  that 
the  zeal  and  expenditure  incurred  by  the  Messrs. 
Ashworth  might  one  day  be  turned  against  them,  to 
their  annoyance  and  pecuniary  loss.     The  prediction 


CHAP.  X.]  N'ew  Eagley  Mills.  205 

was  realized  in  only  a  single  instance.  A  young  man 
of  considerable  talent,  who,  when  a  child,  had  been  re- 
moved to  the  factory  from  a  neighboring  work-house, 
made  very  rapid  progress  at  school,  especially  in  arith- 
metic ;  and  when  a  strike  of  the  work-people  occurred 
in  1830,  one  of  the  great  strike  years,  he  became  very 
officious  as  a  leader.  The  strike  was  defeated  by  the 
employment  of  new  hands,  and  it  was  attributed  to 
the  influence  of  this  young  man  that  the  employed 
were  brutally  assailed  by  an  infuriated  mob,  and  that 
the  windows  of  the  school-room  were  smashed,  and 
other  works  of  destruction  committed. 

The  employers,  nevertheless,  pursued  their  original 
design.  They  rej^aired  the  school-house,  and  endeav- 
ored to  increase  the  efficacy  of  the  teaching.  They 
believed  that  nothing  was  better  calculated  to  remove 
ignorant  infatuation  than  increased  schooling.  In  a 
great  many  instances,  the  heads  of  the  families  had 
previously  been  engaged  as  hand-loom  weavers,  or  in 
some  pastoral  pursuit ;  and  it  became  evident  that  in 
course  of  time  the  exercise  of  their  minds  in  the  de- 
tails of  a  new  pursuit  awakened  their  intelligence,  and 
their  general  demeanor  indicated  marks  of  a  higher 
cultivation. 

The  Kew  Eagley  Mills  being  situated  in  a  narrow 
valley,  several  miles  from  Bolton,  and  tlie  property  be- 
ing in  the  possession  of  the  owners,  they  forbade  the 
opening  of  any  tavern  or  beer-house  on  the  estate ;  so 
that  the  district  became  distinguished  for  the  order 
and  sobriety  of  the  inhabitants.  A  man  of  intemper- 
ate liabits  has  little  chance  of  remaining  in  the  Ash- 
worth  villages.  He  is  expelled,  not  by  the  employers, 
but  by  the  men  themselves.  He  must  conform  to  the 
sober  habits  of  the  place,  or  decamp  to  some  larger 
town  where  his  vices  may  be  hidden  in  the  crowd. 
Many  of  the  parents  have  expressed  how  much  grati- 


206  Improved  Work-people.  [chap.  x. 

fication  they  have  felt,  that,  by  reason  of  the  isolated 
situation  they  enjoyed  as  a  community,  they  had  be- 
come so  completely  separated  from  the  corrupt  influ- 
ences of  music-saloons  and  drink-shops. 

The  masters  have  added  to  their  other  obligations 
to  the  work -people,  the  erection  of  comfortable  cot- 
tages for  their  accommodation.  They  are  built  of 
stone,  and  are  two-storied ;  some  have  two  upper  bed- 
rooms, and  others  have  three.  On  the  ground -floor 
there  is  a  sitting-room,  a  living-room,  and  a  scullery, 
with  a  walled  court-yard  inclosing  the  whole  premises. 
The  proprietor  pays  the  poor-rates  and  other  local 
charges,  and  the  rentals  of  the  houses  varj'-  from  two 
shillings  and  fourpence  to  four  shillings  and  three- 
pence a  week. 

The  regularity  of  their  employment,  accompanied 
with  the  payment  of  wages  on  Friday  night,  doubtless 
promoted  their  local  attachment  to  the  place.  Many 
of  the  descendants  of  the  first-comers  remain  on  the 
spot ;  their  social  relations  have  been  promoted ;  inter- 
marriages have  been  frequent;  and  during  the  whole 
period  there  has  not  been  a  single  prosecution  for  theft. 
The  working-people  have  also  thriven  as  well  as  their 
masters.  Great  numbers  of  them  are  known  to  possess 
reserved  funds  in  savings-banks  and  other  depositories 
for  savings;  and  there  are  others  of  them  who  have  in- 
vested their  money  in  cottage  buildings,  and  in  various 
other  ways. 

But  have  not  the  men  risen  above  their  lot  of  labor- 
ing spinners  ?  They  have.  Such  of  them  as  possessed 
skill,  ability,  and  the  faculty  of  organization,  have  been 
promoted  from  the  ranks  of  laborers,  and  become  mill 
managers.  "About  thirty  of  these,"  says  Mr.  Henry 
Ash  worth,  "have  been  reckoned  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment,  and  teii  of  them  have  become  business  part- 
ners or  proprietors  of  mills ....     INfany  manufacturers," 


CHAP.  X.]     Public  Spirit  of  Manufacturers.  207 

adds  Mr.  Ashworth,  "are  to  be  found  who  have  done 
a  ffreat  deal  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  those  thev 
have  employed;  and  no  one  will  doubt  that  they  have 
been  prompted,  not  by  hopes  of  gain,  but  by  emotions 
of  good-will."* 

Manufacturers  such  as  these  do  not,  like  Plugson  of 
St.  Dolly  Undershot,  gather  up  their  fortunes  and  run 
away,  leaving  a  groat  each  to  their  work-people  to 
drink  their  healths.  They  remain  with  them  from 
generation  to  generation.  The  best  and  the  noblest 
among  them — the  Ashworths  of  Turton,  the  Strutts  of 
Derby,  the  Marshalls  of  Leeds,  the  Akroyds  of  Halifax, 
the  Brookses  of  Huddersfield,  and  many  others — have 
continued  to  superintend  their  works  for  several  gen- 
erations. The  Strutts  w^ere  the  partners  of  Arkwright, 
who  was  almost  the  beginner  of  English  manufacture. 
In  fact,  it  is  only  since  ArkAvright  took  out  his  patent 
for  the  spinning-machine,  and  Watt  took  out  his  patent 
for  the  steam-engine,  that  England  has  become  a  man- 
ufacturing country. 

Where  would  England  have  been  now,  but  for  the 
energy,  enterprise,  and  public  spirit  of  our  manufact- 
urers? Could  agriculture  have  supported  the  con- 
tinuous increase  of  population  ?  Is  it  not  more  prob- 
able that  this  country  w^ould  have  become  overrun  by 
beggars,  or  that  property  w^ould  have  been  assailed 
and  the  constitution  upset,  as  w^as  the  case  in  France, 
but  for  the  extensive  and  remunerative  employment 
afforded  to  the  laboring-classes  in  the  manufacturing 
districts?  Tiie  steam-engine  has  indeed  proved  the 
safety-valve  of  England.  It  enabled  the  kingdom  to 
hold  its  ground  firmly  during  the  Continental  w-ars; 
and  but  for  it,  and  tlie  industries  which  it  has  estab- 

*  The  greater  part  of  the  above  information  is  contained  in  the 
statement  bv  Mr.  Henry  Ashwovth,  in  the  "  Reports  on  the  Fans  Uni- 
versal Exhibition,"  1807,  vol.  vi.,  pp.  ICl-lGIJ. 


208  Mr.  Lister^  of  Bradford.  [CHAP.  x. 

lished,  England  would  probably  by  this  time  have 
sunk  to  the  condition  of  a  third  or  fourth  rate  power. 

It  is  true,  the  great  manufacturers  have  become 
wealthy.  But  it  would  certainly  have  been  singular 
if,  with  their  industry,  energy,  and  powers  of  organiza- 
tion, they  had  become  poor !  Men  of  the  stamp  of  the 
Strutts,  Ashworths,  Marshalls,  and.  others,  do  not  work 
for  wealth  merely,  though  wealth  comes  to  them.  They 
have  not  become  great  because  they  were  rich,  but 
they  have  become  rich  because  they  were  great.  Ac- 
cumulations of  wealth  are  the  result  of  exceptional  in- 
dustry, organization,  and  thrift,  rather  than  of  excep- 
tional gain.  Adam  Smith  has  said :  "  It  seldom  hap- 
pens that  great  fortunes  are  made  by  any  one  regular- 
ly established  and  well-known  branch  of  business,  but 
in  consequence  of  a  long  life  of  industry,  frugality,  and 
attention." 

But  it  is  not  always  so.  For  instance,  Mr.  Lister, 
of  Bradford,  after  inventing:  the  combinoj-machine — or 
at  least  combining  the  inventions  of  others  into  a  com- 
plete combing-machine  of  his  own — proceeded  to  invent 
a  machine  for  using  up  silk  waste  (then  cast  away  as 
useless),  spinning  it  into  silk  of  the  finest  kind,  and  by 
means  of  the  power -loom  to  weave  it  into  velvet  of 
the  best  quality.  The  attempt  had  never  before  been 
made  by  any  inventor;  and  it  seemed  to  be  of  insu- 
perable difficulty.  Mr.  Lister  had  already  made  a  fort- 
une by  the  success  of  his  combing-machine,  such  as  to 
enable  him  to  retire  from  business,  and  live  in  comfort 
for  the  rest  of  his  life.  But,  urged  by  the  irrepressible 
spirit  of  the  inventor,  he  went  onward  with  his  silk 
machine.  As  he  himself  said,  at  a  recent  meeting  at 
Bradford,*  "They  might  judge  how  hard  he  had  work- 

*  The  meeting  was  held  to  receive  the  transfer  of  Mr.  Lister's  fine 
park  at  Manningham,  wliich  he  had  presented  to  the  corporation  of 
Bradford,  "  to  be  a  people's  park  forever." 


CHAP.  X.]  Mr.  Forster's  Speech.  209 

ed  to  conquer  the  difficulties  which  beset  him,  whea 
he  told  them  that  for  twenty  years  he  had  never  been 
in  bed  at  half-past  five  in  the  morning ;  in  fact,  he  did 
not  think  tliere  was  a  man  in  England  who  had  work- 
ed harder  than  he  had."  The  most  remarkable  thing 
was,  that  he  threw  away  an  immense  fortune  before 
there  was  any  probability  of  his  succeeding.  "He 
had  almost  brought  himself  to  ruin,  for  he  was  £360,000 
out  of  pocket  before  he  even  made  a  shilling  by  his 
machine;  indeed,  he  wrote  ofi'a  quarter  of  a  million  as 
entirely  lost,  before  he  began  to  make  up  his  books 
again.  Since  then,  his  patent  for  the  manufacture  of 
silk  had  turned  out  one  of  the  most  successful  of  the 
day." 

In  the  park  presented  by  Mr.  Lister  to  the  people  of 
Bradford,  a  statue  was  recently  erected  by  public  sub- 
scription. It  was  unveiled  by  the  Right  Hon.  W.  E. 
Forster,  who,  in  closing  his  speech,  observed,  "  I  doubt, 
after  all,  whether  we  are  come  here  to  do  honor  to  Mr. 
Lister  so  much  as  to  do  honor  to  ourselves.  We  wish 
to  do  honor  to  those  working  faculties  which  have 
made  our  country  of  England  a  practical,  and  there- 
fore a  great  and  prosperous,  and  a  powerful  country. 
It  is  this  untiring,  unresting  industry  which  Mr.  Lister 
possesses,  this  practical  understanding,  this  determina- 
tion to  carry  out  any  object  which  he  is  convinced 
ought  to  be  carried  out,  and  his  determination  to  fear 
no  opposition  and  to  care  for  no  obstacle — it  is  these 
practical  faculties  that  have  made  England  what  she 
is.  What  is  it  especially  that  we  are  honoring?  It  is 
the  pluck  which  this  man  has  shown ;  it  is  tlie  feeling 
that,  liaving  to  do  with  the  worsted  trade,  he  said  to 
Jiimself, '  Here  is  something  whicli  ought  to  be  done  ^ 
I  will  not  rest  until  I  have  found  out  how  it  can  be 
done  ;  and  liaving  found  out  how  it  can  be  done,  where 
is  tlie  man  who  shall  stop  my  doing  it?'     Now,  it  was 


210  Oreat  Men^  Wise  Savers.  [chap.  x. 

upon  that  principle  that  he  fought  his  long  struggle; 
and  so  when  we  read  the  story  of  his  struggles,  ever 
since  1842,  in  those  two  great  inventions,  we  raise  this 
statue  to  the  man  who  has  successfully  fought  the  bat- 
tle, and  hope  that  our  sons  and  the  sons  of  all,  rich  and 
poor  together,  will  come  in  after-days  to  admire  it,  not 
merely  because  it  gives  them  the  form  and  features  of 
a  rich  and  successful  man,  but  because  it  gives  them 
the  form  and  features  of  a  man  who  was  endowed  with 
industry,  with  intellect,  with  energy,  with  courage,  with 
perseverance,  who  spared  himself  no  pains  in  first  as- 
certaining the  conditions  of  the  problems  he  had  to 
solve,  and  then  whose  heart  never  fainted,  whose  will 
never  relaxed,  in  determining  to  carry  out  those  con- 
ditions." 

Great  men  are  wise  savers,  and  wise  spenders.  Mon- 
tesquieu has  said  of  Alexander:  "He  found  the  first 
means  of  his  prosperity  and  powder  in  the  greatness 
of  his  genius ;  the  second,  in  his  frugality  and  private 
economy ;  and  the  third,  in  his  immense  liberality  to 
accomplish  great  objects.  lie  spent  but  little  on  him- 
self; but,  for  public  purposes,  his  hand  was  always 
open."  It  was  also  said  of  the  First  Napoleon  that 
he  was  economical  like  Charlemagne,  because  he  was 
great  like  Charlemagne.  Napoleon  was  by  no  means 
a  spendthrift,  except  in  war;  but  he  spent  largely  in 
accomplishing  great  public  undertakings.  In  cases 
such  as  these,  economy  and  generosity  are  well  com- 
bined. And  so  it  is  in  the  cases  of  all  men  possessed 
of  energy,  industry,  and  great  powers  of  organization. 

It  may  seem  out  of  keeping  to  compare  great  pro- 
ducers with  great  commanders.  Yet  the  manufact- 
urer often  requires  as  much  courage,  as  much  genius, 
as  much  organizing  power,  as  the  warrior.  The  one 
considers  how  he  shall  keep  his  operatives  in  working 
order;  the  other  how  he  shall  keep  his  soldiers  in  fight- 


CHAP.  X.]  Sir  Titus  Salt.  211 

iiig  order.  Both  must  be  men  of  enterprise,  of  bold- 
ness, of  keen  observation,  and  close  attention  to  de- 
tails ;  and  the  manufacturer,  from  his  position,  needs 
to  be  the  more  benevolent  man  of  the  two.  Viewed 
in  this  light,  we  regard  Sir  Titus  Salt  not  only  as  a 
Captain  of  Industry,  but  as  a  Field-marshal  of  Indus- 
try.    He  has  been  called  the  Prince  of  Manufacturers. 

Titus  Salt  is  the  son  of  a  Yorkshire  wool-stapler.  In 
the  early  part  of  his  life  he  was  a  farmer  near  Brad- 
ford, and  his  inclination  for  agricultural  pursuits  was 
such  that  it  was  thought  he  would  continue  to  pursue 
this  vocation.  Being,  however,  a  partner  with  his  fa- 
ther in  tlie  wool  business,  and  observing  that  manufact- 
ures were  rapidly  extending  in  the  neighborhood,  he 
withdrew  from  the  partnership,  and  commenced  busi- 
ness at  Bradford  as  a  wool-spinner.  He  was  one  of 
the  first  to  observe  the  uses  of  alpaca  wool.  Large 
quantities  of  that  material  were  stored  at  Liverpool, 
imported  from  the  Brazils.  But  the  wool  found  no 
purchasers,  vmtil  at  length  Mr.  Salt  bought  a  quantity, 
and  spun  it  into  an  entirely  new  fabric.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  buy  up  all  the  alpaca  that  was  to  be  found 
at  Liverpool;  made  arrangements  for  purchasing  all 
that  came  into  the  market;  went  on  spinning  alpaca; 
and  eventually  established  the  manufacture.  This  was 
the  foundation  of  Mr.  Salt's  fortune. 

At  length,  after  about  twenty  years'  labor  as  a  man- 
ufacturer, Mr.  Salt  thought  of  retiring  from  business, 
and  again  betaking  himself  to  his  favorite  agricultural 
pursuits.  He  intended  to  retire  on  his  fiftieth  birth- 
day, but  before  that  time  had  arrived  (having  five  sons 
to  provide  for)  he  reversed  his  decision,  and  resolved 
to  continue  in  business  a  little  longer,  and  to  remain 
at  the  head  of  the  firm.  Having  come  to  this  deter- 
mination, he  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  Bradford.  The 
borough  was  already  overcrowded,  and  he  did  not  like 


212  Saltaire.  [chap.  x. 

to  be  a  party  to  increasing  the  population.  He  looked 
about  for  a  site  suitable  for  a  manufacturing  establish- 
ment, and  at  length  fixed  upon  a  large  piece  of  ground 
in  the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Aire.  An  extension  of 
the  Leeds  and  Bradford  Railway  was  in  front,  and  the 
Leeds  and  Liverpool  Canal  behind  it,  so  that  there  was 
every  convenience  for  bringing  up  the  raw  materials, 
and  of  sending  away  the  manufactured  goods.  On  that 
spot  Saltaire  w^as  erected  —  a  noble  monument  of  pri- 
vate enterprise,  liberality,  and  wisdom. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  describe  Saltaire.  The  build- 
ings connected  with  the  new  works  cover  six  and  a 
half  acres.  The  principal  room  is  five  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  long.  The  weaving-shed  covers  two  acres. 
The  combing-shed  occupies  one  acre.  Every  thing  is 
large,  roomy,  and  substantial.  The  cost  of  construct- 
ing the  factory,  and  the  dwellings  for  the  work-people, 
amounted  to  more  than  a  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
pounds. 

On  the  opening  day,  Mr.  Salt  dined  three  thousand 
five  hundred  persons  in  the  combing-shed.  At  the  din- 
ner he  said:  "I  can  not  look  around  me  and  see  this 
vast  assemblage  of  friends  and  work-people  without 
being  moved.  I  feel  greatly  honored  by  the  presence 
of  the  nobleman  at  my  side.     I  am  especially  delighted 

at  the  presence  of  my  work-people I  hope  to  draw 

around  me  a  population  that  will  enjoy  the  beauties  of 
this  neighborhood,  a  population  of  well-paid,  content- 
ed, happy  oj^eratives.  I  have  given  instructions  to  my 
architects  that  nothing  is  to  be  spared  to  render  the 
dwellings  of  the  operatives  a  pattern  to  the  country; 
and  if  my  life  is  spared  by  Divine  Providence,  I  hope 
to  see  satisfaction,  contentment,  and  happiness  around 
me." 

Tins  promise  has  been  amply  fulfilled.  Mr.  Salt  has 
been  influenced  throughout  by  his  sense  of  duty  and 


CHAP.  X.]  Its  Institutions.  213 


responsibility.  When  be  was  applied  to  by  tbe  French 
Government  for  information  as  to  his  factory,  lie  re- 
plied, "  What  has  been  attempted  at  Saltaire  arose 
from  my  own  private  feeling  and  judgment,  without 
the  most  remote  idea  that  it  would  be  made  the  sub- 
ject of  public  interest  and  inquiry."  With  respect  to 
the  factory  itself,  little  need  be  said.  The  object  of  its 
construction  is  to  save  time  in  the  process  of  produc- 
tion. Xot  a  minute  is  lost  in  pushing  the  material 
from  one  department  to  another.  Every  horse-power 
of  steam  is  made  to  do  its  utmost,  every  moment  of 
time  is  economized,  and  the  productive  capabilities  of 
the  factory  are  thus  greatly  increased. 

W^e  prefer  to  speak  of  the  immense  improvement 
which  Mr.  Salt,  or  rather  Sir  Titus  Salt,  has  effected  in 
the  physical  and  moral  condition  of  his  work-people. 
The  plan  of  the  works  shows  that  Saltaire  has  been 
provided  with  a  church,  a'  Wesley  an  chapel,  and  a 
literary  and  philosophical  institution.  Large  schools 
have  been  provided  for  boys,  girls,  and  infants ;  with 
abundance  of  play-ground.  For  young  men  as  well  as 
old,  there  are  a  cricket-ground,  bowling-green,  and  cro- 
quet-lawn, surrounded  by  pleasure-grounds.  There  are 
also  a  large  dining-hall,  baths,  and  wash-houses,  a  dis- 
pensary, and  almshouses  for  pensioners. 

About  three  thousand  persons  are  employed  in  tho 
works;  and  seven  hundred  and  fifty-six  houses  have 
been  erected  for  their  accommodation.  Tiie  rents  run 
from  two  and  fourpence  to  seven  and  sixpence  a  week, 
according  to  the  accommodation.  Some  of  the  houses 
are  used  as  boarding-houses.  The  rents  include  rates 
and  water-supply,  and  gas  is  sold  at  a  low  price.  The 
cottages  are  built  of  stone,  lined  with  brick -work. 
They  contain  a  parlor  or  long  room,  a  kitchen  or  scul- 
lery, a  pantry  and  cellar,  and  three  bedrooms.  Each 
house  has  a  separate  yard,  with  the  usual  ofliccs.     The 


214:  Music  and  Sobriety.  [chap.  x. 

work-people  are  well  able  to  pay  the  rents.  Single 
workmen  earn  from  twenty-four  to  thirty-five  shillings 
a  week.  A  family,  consisting  of  a  father  and  six  chil- 
dren, earn  four  pounds  four  shillings  a  week,  or  equal 
to  a  united  income  of  over  two  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds  a  year. 

The  comfortable  liouses  provided  for  the  work-peo- 
ple have  awakened  in  them  that  home-feeling  which 
has  led  them  to  decorate  their  dwellings  neatly  and 
tastefully — a  sure  sign  of  social  happiness.  Every  vis- 
itor among  the  poor  knows  how  such  things  combine  to 
prevent  vice  and  disease,  to  elevate  the  moral  tone  of 
working-people,  and  to  develop  their  intellectual  pow- 
ers. A  man  in  a  dirty  house,  says  Mr.  Rhind,  the  med- 
ical attendant  at  Saltaire,  is  like  a  beggar  in  misera- 
ble clothing.  He  soon  ceases  to  have  self-respect ;  and 
when  that  is  gone,  there  is  but  little  hope. 

Great  attention  is  paid  in  Saltaire  to  education,  even 
of  the  higher  sort.  There  are  day-schools,  night- 
schools,  mutual-improvement  classes,  lectures,  and  dis- 
cussions. Music — one  of  the  most  humanizing  of  pleas- 
ures— is  one  of  the  most  favorite  studies.  "  In  almost 
every  house  in  the  town  some  form  of  musical  instru- 
ment is  found ;  and,  indeed,  the  choral  and  glee  socie- 
ties, together  with  the  bands,  have  become  household 
names."  There  is  one  full  brass  band  for  men,  and  an- 
other drum-and-fife  band  for  boys ;  and  concerts,  vocal 
and  instrumental,  are  regularly  given  by  the  work-peo- 
ple in  the  dining-hall.  The  bands  have  instructors  pro- 
vided by  the  firm. 

Besides  taking  part  in  the  musical  performances,  a 
large  number  of  the  skilled  workmen  devote  their  lei- 
sure hours  to  various  scientific  amusements,  such  as 
natural  history,  taxidermy,  the  making  of  philosophical 
instruments,  such  as  air-pumps,  models  of  working  ma- 
chinery, steam-engines,  and  articles  of  domestic  com- 


CHAP.  X.]         Otlier  Generous  Employers.  215 

fort,  while  some  have  even  manufactured  organs  and 
other  musical  instruments. 

There  is  no  drinkiug-house  in  Saltaire ;  so  that  the 
vices  and  diseases  associated  with  drunkenness  are  ex- 
cluded from  the  locality.  The  diseases  peculiar  to  pov- 
erty are  also  unknown  in  Saltaire.  Every  thing  is  at- 
tended to — drainage,  cleansing,  and  ventilation.  There 
are  baths  of  all  kinds — plunge-baths,  warm  baths,  Turk- 
ish baths,  and  douche  baths;  and  the  wash-house,  to 
enable  the  women  to  wash  their  clothes  away  from 
their  cottages,  is  a  great  accommodation — inasmuch 
as  indoor  washing  is  most  pernicious,  and  a  fruitful 
source  of  disease,  especially  to  the  young. 

The  work-people  are  also  thrifty.  They  invest  their 
savings  in  the  penny  bank  and  savings-bank;  while 
others  invest  in  various  building  societies,  gas  compa- 
nies, and  other  lucrative  undertakings.  In  fact,  they 
seem  to  be  among  the  most  favored  of  human  beings. 
With  every  convenience  and  necessity,  as  well  as  every 
proper  pleasure  provided  for  them ;  with  comfortable 
homes,  and  every  inducement  to  stay  at  home ;  wiili 
fishing-clubs,  boating- clubs,  and  cricket- clubs  ;  with 
school -rooms,  literary  institutions,  lecture-hall,  muse- 
um, and  class-rooms,  established  in  their  midst,  and,  to 
crown  all,  with  a  beautiful  temple  for  the  worship  of 
God — there  is  no  wonder  that  Saltaire  has  obtained  a 
name,  and  that  Sir  Titus  Salt  has  established  a  reputa- 
tion among  his  fellow-men. 

There  are  large  numbers  of  employers  who  treat  their 
work-people  quite  as  generously,  though  not  in  such  a 
princely  manner,  as  Sir  Titus  Salt.  They  pay  the  uni- 
form rate  of  w^agcs;  help  and  encourage  the  employed 
to  economize  their  surplus  earnings;  establish  savings- 
banks  and  penny  banks  for  theii*  use;  assist  them  in 
the  formation  of  co-operative  associations  for  the  pur- 
chase of  pure  food  at  a  cheaper  rate;  build  healthy 


216  Mr.  Akroyd^  Halifax.  [chap.  x. 

cottages  for  their  accommodation ;  erect  schools  for  the 
education  of  their  children ;  and  assist  them  in  every 
method  that  is  calculated  to  promote  their  moral  and 
social  improvement. 

Mr.  Edward  Akroyd,  formerly  M.P.  for  Halifax,  is 
another  manufacturer  who  has  exercised  great  influence 
throughout  Yorkshire,  by  his  eiKJOuragement  of  habits 
of  thrift  among  working-people.  In  his  own  district, 
at  Copley  and  Haley  Hill,  near  Halifax,  he  has  built 
numerous  excellent  cottages  for  his  workmen,  and  en- 
couraged them  to  build  their  own  houses  by  investing 
their  spare  earnings  in  building-clubs.  He  has  estab- 
lished co-operative  clubs,  to  enable  the  men  to  purchase 
food  and  clothing  at  cost-price.  He  has  built  excellent 
schools  at  his  own  ex2:)ense,  and  provided  them  with  a 
paid  staff  of  teachers.  He  has  built  and  endowed  the 
very  fine  church  of  "All  Souls "  (Sir  Gilbert  Scott, 
architect),  to  which  a  large  district,  inclusive  of  the 
works,  has  been  assigned.  He  has  provided  for  his 
work-people,  both  at  Haley  Hill  and  Copley,  a  literary 
and  scientific  society,  a  mutual-improvement  society,  a 
working-men's  library  (to  which  he  has  presented  more 
than  five  thousand  ^books),  a  working-men's  club  and 
news  room,  a  choral  society,  snpplied  with  an  excellent 
library  of  music ;  a  recreation  club,  provided  with  a 
bowling-green ;  and  a  cricket-ground,  with  quoits,  and 
gymnastic  apparatus.  Mr.  Akroyd  has  also  allotted  a 
large  field  to  his  workmen,  dividing  it  into  small  gar- 
dens varying  from  a  hundred  to  two  hundred  and  forty 
square  yards  each.  The  small  rent  charged  for  each 
plot  is  distributed  in  prizes  given  at  an  annual  flower- 
show  held  in  his  grounds,  for  the  best  growers  of 
flowers,  plants,  and  vegetables.  Hence  the  Haley  Hill 
Horticultural  and  Floral  Society,  one  of  the  most  thriv- 
ing institutions  of  the  kind  in  the  neighborhood.  In 
short,  Mr.  Akroyd  has  done  every  thing  that  a  wise 


CHAP.  X.]  Yorkshire  Penny  Bank.  217 

and  conscientious  master  could  have  done,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  promoting  the  moral  and  spiritual  welfare  of 
the  four  thousand  persons  employed  in  his  manufacto- 
ries, who  have  been  virtually  committed  to  his  charge. 

But  although  Mr.  Akroyd  has  done  so  much  as  a 
master  for  the  men  and  women  employed  by  him,  he 
has  perhaps  done  still  more  as  a  public  benefactor  by 
establishing  the  Yorkshire  Penny  Bank  for  Savings. 
As  early  as  the  year  1852,  Mr.  Akroyd  instituted  a 
savings-bank  to  enable  his  work-people  to  deposit  sums 
of  from  one  j^enny  upward.  The  system  was  found 
to  work  so  well,  and  to  have  such  a  beneficial  effect  in 
making  people  provident,  that  he  conceived  the  idea 
of  extending  its  operations  throughout  the  West  Rid- 
ing of  Yorkshire.  Having  obtained  the  co-operation 
of  several  influential  gentlemen,  the  scheme  was  start- 
ed in  1856,  and  an  act  of  parliament  was  obtained  for 
constituting  the  Yorkshire  Penny  Savings-bank  as  it 
now  exists. 

Mr.  Akroyd  has  recently  furnished  an  "  Introduction  " 
to  the  narrative  of  the  Yorkshire  Penny  Bank,  from 
which  we  extract  the  following  passage : 

"The  way  by  which  thoughts,  or  chance  sugges- 
tions, enter  into  the  minds  of  men,  is  sometimes  pass- 
ing strange  !  They  may  be  the  offspring  of  wayward 
fancy;  or  they  may  be  the  whisperings  from  a  higher 
source.  To  the  latter  cause  I  ain  willing  to  attribute 
the  idea  which  flashed  across  my  mind  during  the  pres- 
ent year,  to  give  to  the  public  something  beyond  the 
bare  outline  of  the  scheme,  in  which,  for  years,  many 
of  them  have  taken  a  warm  personal  interest. 

"It  occurred  in  this  wise:  "When  in  town,  I  occa- 
sionally attended,  during  Lent,  the  services  at  White- 
hall Chapel,  for  the  sake  of  hearing  a  Lenten  sermon 
preached  by  one  of  her  majesty's  chaplains.  One  re- 
markable sermon  of  the  series  was  delivered  b}^  tlie 

10 


218  Origin  of  the  Bank.  [chap.  x. 

Kev.  Charles  Kingsley,  on  the  12th  of  March,  on  behalf 
of  the  Supplemental  Ladies' Association  of  the  London 
Society  of  Parochial  Mission  Women.  In  the  sketch 
Avhich  the  preacher  gave  of  this  excellent  institution, 
he  referred  to  a  book  entitled  'East  and  West,'  in  which 
the  benefits  derived  by  the  London  poor  from  the  as- 
sociation are  clearly  set  forth ;  but  he  dwelt  chiefly  on 
the  wide  separation  which  divides  rich  from  poor,  class 
from  class,  in  London ;  and  on  the  dangers  which  threat- 
en society  from  this  cause,  as  was  recently  exemplified 
in  France.  Such  was  the  impression  made  upon  me 
by  the  sermon,  that,  before  many  days  had  elapsed,  I 
had  purchased  *East  and  West,'  and  given  the  book  a 
careful  perusal. 

"  From  previous  observation,  I  had  been  struck  with 
the  sad  contrast  between  the  luxurious  lives  of  those 
who  reside  at  the  West  End  of  London,  and  the  strug- 
gle for  a  hard,  wretched  existence,  which  the  crowd- 
ed poor  at  the  East,  or  in  close  purlieus  elsewhere, 
are  obliged  to  maintain  until  death  closes  the  scene. 
How  to  bridge  over  the  wide  chasm  intervening  be- 
tween the  extremes  of  high  and  low  in  society,  without 
injury  to  self-respect  on  either  side,  was  the  puzzling 
question,  the  problem  to  be  solved.  Yet,  from  the  ad- 
mirable introduction  to  this  most  useful  little  work,  by 
the  Countess  Spencer,  it  appeared  that  a  lady  of  high 
rank,  and  her  noble-minded  associates,  had  in  some 
measure  solved  the  problem,  and  bridged  over  the 
chasm. 

"Hence  I  was  led  to  reflect  how  much  easier  it  is  to 
discharge  our  duty  to  our  neighbors,  and  to  fulfill  the 
leading  object  of  the  Parochial  Mission  Women  Asso- 
ciation, to  *  help  the  poor  to  help  themselves '  in  pro- 
vincial towns  and  in  the  country,  where  we  are  person- 
ally acquainted  with  each  other,  than  in  London,  where 
we  do  not  know  our  next-door  neighbor.     To  help  the 


CHAP.  X.]  How  to  Help  the  Poor.  219 


poor  to  help  themselves  is  the  cardinal  principle  of  the 
Yorkshire  Penny  Bank."* 

The  business  of  the  bank  commenced  on  the  1st  of 
May,  1859.  At  tlie  end  of  the  year,  when  the  bank  had 
been  in  operation  seven  months,  twenty-four  branches 
had  been  opened.  It  went  on  increasing  in  tlie  num- 
ber of  branches  and  depositors,  and  in  the  amounts  de- 
posited. In  1874,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  branches 
had  been  established,  and  the  amount  of  investments  in 
the  names  of  trustees  had  reached  nearly  four  hundred 
thousand  pounds. 

The  Yorkshire  Penny  Bank  does  not  interfere  with 
the  post-office  savings-bank.  It  has  a  special  function, 
that  of  teaching  the  young  of  either  sex  the  habit  of 
saving.  It  is  also  convenient  to  the  adult  worker  as  a 
'  convenient  receptacle  for  his  savings.  Many  have  been 
induced  to  save,  in  consequence  of  the  banks  having 
been  brought  almost  to  their  very  doors.  One  of  the 
most  remarkable  facts  connected  with  the  history  of 
penny  banks  is  tjie  sympathetic  influence  of  juvenile 
thrift  upon  paternal  recklessness  and  intemperance. 
The  fact  is  well  worthy  the  consideration  of  temper- 
ance advocates,  who  would  probably  effect  mucli  great- 
er practical  good  by  enabling  working-people  to  save 
their  money  in  the  penny  banks,  than  by  any  speech- 
making  agency.  Take,  for  instance,  the  following  il- 
lustrations from  Mr.  Akroyd's  narrative  : 

An  actuary  says:  "All  the  juvenile  depositors  seem 
inclined  to  take  care  of  their  pence  by  depositing  them 
in  the  bank;  and  the  grown-up  people  have  become 
of  the  same  turn  of  mind,  rather  than  carry  their  loose 
money  to  the  public-house,  or  spend  it  foolislily.  Some 
factory  operatives  have  saved  sufficient  to  buy  stock 
and  commence  farming." 

*  "The  Yorkshire  Penny  Bank  :  a  Nan-ative,  with  an  Introduclion 
hy  Edward  Akroyd,  M.P." 


220  Saving  helps  Sobriety.  [chap.  x. 

Another  actuary  says:  "A  drunken  father,  being 
shamed  out  of  his  drunkenness  by  the  deposits  of  his 
children,  now  deposits  half  a  crown  a  week  in  the 
bank.  A  notoriously  bad  man,  a  collier,  became  a  reg- 
ular depositor  himself,  as  well  as  depositing  money  in 
the  name  of  his  child  ;  all  his  spare  money  having  pre- 
viously been  spent  in  drink.  From  the  date  of  his  be- 
ginning to  save,  a  perceptible  improvement  took  place 
in  his  conduct  and  character.  In  another  case,  two 
boys  prevailed  upon  their  father,  also  a  collier,  to  al- 
low them  to  deposit  a  shilling  a  week,  until  they  had 
saved  sufficient  to  buy  themselves  each  a  suit  of  new 
clothes.  Before  then,  all  their  father's  earnings,  as  well 
as  their  own,  had  been  spent  in  drink." 

An  actuary  of  another  branch  says  be  has  seen 
fathers  and  mothers,  who  have  been^  drunkards,  send' 
their  children  with  money  to  the  bank.  He  says  :  "  My 
heart  was  made  to  rejoice  when  I  saw  a  boy,  who  nev- 
er had  a  suit  of  new  clothes  in  his  life,  draw  out  his 
money,  and  in  less  than  two  hours  return  well  clad, 
to  take  his  place  in  the  school  to  practice  singing  for 
Good-Friday."  At  the  meeting  of  the  "  Band  of  Hope  " 
on  Good-Friday,  he  asked  the  parents  and  children  to 
signify,  by  holding  up  their  hands,  whether  or  not  the 
bank  had  been  beneficial  to  them;  when  many  hands 
were  instantly  raised,  one  poor  mother  exclaiming,  "I 
will  put  up  both  my  hands  for  my  two  bairns  !" 

"A  miner,  the  father  of  a  family,  reclaimed  from 
drunkenness,  saved  his  money  in  the  bank  until,  with 
the  aid  of  a  loan  from  a  building  society,  he  built  two 
houses  at  a  cost  of  four  hundred  pounds.  Tlie  bank 
has  been  to  many  people  what  the  hive  is  to  the  bee — 
a  kind  of  repository ;  and  when  the  wintry  days  of 
sickness  or  adversity  befall  them,  they  have  then  the 
bank  to  flee  to  for  succor." 

A  missionary  says:  *'I  met   a   man    and  his  wife 


CHAP.  X.]  Drunkenness  2^ut  Doiun,  221 

about  two  years  ago — both  drank.  I  got  them  to  sign 
the  pledge,  and  since  then  to  invest  their  money  in  our 
bank.  The  pawnbroker  had  got  the  greater  part  of 
their  goods;  but  I  am  happy  to  say  that  they  have 
got  all  the  articles  out  of  pawn,  and  can  bring  a  little 
money  almost  every  week  to  the  bank;  and  when  put- 
ting in  the  money,  the  man  says  that  it  is  better  than 
taking  it  to  the  public-house.  Their  home  is  now  a 
very  comfortable  one." 

A  drunkard  one  night  came  to  the  bank,  and,  fling- 
ing down  a  shilling  for  a  start,  said, "  There !  that  is 
the  price  of  six  pints  of  beer ;  but  I  promise  the  land- 
lords that  they  sha'n't  have  as  much  of  my  money  as 
they  have  had."  This  man  has  become  sober,  and  con- 
tinues a  regular  depositor. 

In  another  bank,  a  man  who  had  been  a  reckless  and 
desperate  fellow  was  induced  by  his  wife  to  deposit  a 
few  coppers  in  the  bank.  He  did  so,  and  his  weekly 
deposits  increased  ;  while  at  the  same  time  his  visits 
to  the  public-house  decreased.  In  the  course  of  a  short 
time  he  had  a  respectable  balance  to  his  credit ;  and 
this  induced  him  to  take  a  share  in  a  building  socie- 
ty, and  then  a  second  share.  After  continuing  to  pay 
upon  these  shares  for  some  time,  he  purchased  a  piece 
of  land,  upon  which  he  built  two  houses.  One  of  these 
he  occupies  himself,  and  the  other  he  lets.  Besides 
this,  he  is  now  a  respectable  tradesman,  having  two  or 
three  journeymen  and  an  apprentice  working  for  him. 
lie  is  sober  and  steady,  and  much  respected  by  his 
friends  and  neighbors. 

Many  other  cases  of  the  same  kind  might  be  men- 
tioned. In  one  case,  a  boy  saved  sufficient  money  to 
buy  a  suit  of  clothes  for  his  father,  who  had  spent  all 
his  earnings  in  drink,  and  reduced  himself  and  his  fam- 
ily to  poverty;  in  other  cases,  sons  and  daughters 
maintain  their  infirm  parents  without  resorting  to  the 


222  "  Childish  Worh^  [CHAP.  x. 

parochial  board  for  assistance.  Some  save  for  one 
thing ;  some  for  another.  Some  save  to  emigrate ; 
some  to  buy  clothes  ;  some  to  buy  a  watch  ;  but  in 
all  cases  frugality  is  trained  until  saving  becomes 
habitual. 

One  of  the  Yorkshire  actuaries  of  the  penny  bank 
tells  the  following  anecdote  as  conveying  a  lesson  of 
perseverance  and  encouragement  to  branch  managers: 
"Mr.  Smith  was  one  of  our  first  managers,  but  after 
attending  two  or  three  times  he  left  us,  saying  it  was 
*  childish  work.'  My  answer  was, '  It  is  with  children 
we  have  to  do.'  A  short  time  after,  I  met  him,  and  in 
the  course  of  conversation  I  observed  that  I  sometimes 
got  down  in  the  mouthy  and  did  not  know  whether  we 
were  doing  any  good,  and  felt  disposed  to  give  up  the 
bank;  on  which  he  warmly  replied,  *  For  God's  sake, 
you  must  not  let  such  an  idea  get  into  your  head. 
You  little  know  the  good  you  are  doing.  We  have 
not  a  man  about  our  place  but  either  himself  or  some 
members  of  his  family  are  depositors.' "  The  actuary 
adds,  "  If  Colonel  Akroyd  ever  despairs,  I  give  him  tlie 
above  answer." 

Savings-banks  have  thus  been  the  means  of  doing  an 
immense  amount  of  good.  They  have  brought  peace, 
happiness,  and  comfort  into  many  thousands  of  fam- 
ilies. The  example  of  Mr.  Akroyd  should  be  largely 
imitated,  and  there  ought  not  to  be  a  county  in  the 
kingdom  without  its  organized  system  of  penny  banks. 


CHAPTER  XT. 

THE    CKOSSLEYS — MASTERS    AND    MEN    (C07ltinued). 

"The  sense  to  enjoy  riches,  with  the  art 
T'  enjoy  them,  and  the  virtue  to  impart. "^Popii. 

"My  ventures  are  not  in  one  bottom  trusted, 
Nor  to  one  place ;  nor  is  my  whole  estate 
Upon  the  fortune  of  this  present  year." — Shakspeahk. 

"The  roughest  road  often  leads  to  the  smoothest  fortune." — Frank- 

LIX. 

"  Who  can  find  a  virtuous  woman  ?  for  her  price  is  far  above  rubies. 
The  heart  of  her  husband  doth  safely  trust  in  her,  so  that  he  shall 

have  no  need  of  spoil She  seeketh  wool  and  flax,  and  worketU 

willingly  with  her  hands She  layeth  her  hands  to  the  spindle, 

and  her  hands  hold  the  distaff.     She  stretcheth  out  her  hand  to  the 

poor;  yea,  she  reacheth  forth  her  hands  to  the  needy Strength 

and  honor  are  her  clothing;  and  she  shall  rejoice  in  time  to  come 

Her  children  arise  up,  and  call  her  blessed  ;  her  husband  also,  and  he 
praiseth  her." — Proverbs  of  Solovion. 

THERE  are  several  large  employers  who  Iiave  en- 
deavored to  combine  the  principle  of  co-operation 
with  the  business  of  manufacturing,  and  to  furnish  to 
the  mea  who  have  contributed  to  their  past  prosperity 
the  opportunity  of  sharing  in  their  future  profits.  The 
object  of  these  masters  lias  been  to  obviate  the  an- 
tagonism between  capital  and  labor,  and  to  spread  tlie 
spirit  of  contentment  among  the  operatives.  Work- 
men who  liave  saved  their  earnings,  and  stored  them 
in  savings-banks,  are  in  this  manner  enabled  to  become 
partners  in  the  concerns  in  which  tliey  liave  formerly 
employed  their  labor. 

Tlie  two  principal  manufacturing  concerns  of  Hali- 
fax, those  of  James  Akroyd  &  Son,  and  John  Crossley 
&  Sons,  have  thus  become  converted  into  joint-stock 


224  John  Crossleij.  [CHAP.  XI. 

companies.  They  have  been  so  converted  with  the 
primary  design  of  receiving  the  co-operation  of  the 
managers,  workmen,  and  others  associated  with  them; 
and  with  that  view  the  directors  have  in  all  cases 
given  them  the  priority  in  the  allotment  of  the 
shares. 

We  have  already  referred  to  the  philanthropic  work 
accomplished  by  Edward  Akroyd  in  the  county  of 
York.  AVe  have  now  to  refer  to  the  Crossley  firm, 
whose  carpets  are  known  throughout  the  world.  We 
refer  to  them  with  the  greater  pleasure,  as  their  history 
contains  a  story  which  may  possibly  add  to  the  inter- 
est of  this  book — which,  however  useful,  some  readers 
may  consider  to  be  rather  dull  to  read. 

Tiie  founder  of  this  firm  was  John  Crossley.  He 
belonged  to  an  old  Yorkshire  family.  Ilis  grandfather, 
who  lived  at  King's  Cross,  near  Halifax,  was  born  of 
respectable  parents,  and  had  a  good  education,  yet  he 
was  by  no  means  fond  of  business.  In  fact,  he  spent 
the  greater  part  of  his  time  in  hunting  and  shooting. 
His  wife  was,  however,  of  a  very  different  charactei*. 
She  was  industrious,  energetic,  and  an  excellent  house- 
hold manager.  She  not  only  maintained  herself,  but 
lier  liusband  and  her  fiimily.  She  did  this  by  means 
of  a  boarding-school  which  she  kept — one  of  the  best 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Halifax. 

One  of  her  sons,  the  father  of  John  Crossley,  was 
brought  up  to  carpet-weaving.  He  learned  his  busi- 
ness with  Mr.  Webster,  of  Clay -pits,  one  of  whose 
daughters  he  afterward  married.  John  Crossley  him- 
self also  became  a  carpet-weaver  with  his  uncle;  and 
when  his  apprenticeship  was  finished,  he  went  to  weave 
for  Mr.  Currie,  a  large  carpet-manufacturer  at  Ludden- 
den  Foot.  While  working  at  this  factory,  his  master 
built  a  large,  fine  house  to  live  in.  He  thought  he  had 
money  enough  saved  for  the  purpose,  but  circumstances 


CHAP.  XI.]  Martha  Crossley.  225 

proved  that  he  had  not.  Mr.  Ciirrie  told  his  foreman 
that  he  had  kept  an  account  of  its  cost  until  he  liad 
spent  four  thousand  pounds,  and  then  he  became  so  dis- 
gusted that  he  burned  the  memorandum-book,  although 
the  house  was  not  nearly  finished.  He  said  "  he  liad 
done  all  that  to  please  a  woman" — meaning  his  wife. 
Although  Mr.  Currie  was  an  excellent  man  of  business, 
his  wife  was  too  fond  of  show,  and  the  large,  fine  house 
in  which  she  was  to  live  proved  her  husband's  ruin. 
He  died  shortly  after  it  was  finished,  and  then  the 
whole  of  his  establishment  was  broken  up. 

After  leaving  Mr.  Currie,  John  Crossley  removed  to 
Halifax  to  take  the  management  of  Mr.  Job  Lees's  car- 
pet manufactory  in  Lower  George  Yard,  Halifax.  He 
began  to  look  out  for  a  wife,  and  the  history  of  his 
courtship  is  curious  as  well  as  interesting.  The  Cross- 
leys  seem  to  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  fall  in  with 
excellent  wives ;  and  the  prosperity  of  the  family  is 
quite  as  much  due  to  the  Crossley  women  as  to  the 
Crossley  men. 

Martha  Crossley,  the  future  wife  of  John  Crossley, 
was  born  at  Folly  Hall,  near  the  Ambler  Thorn  Bar. 
Her  great-grandfather,  Thomas  Turner,  was  a  farmer. 
He  lived  at  the  LTpper  Scout  Hall,  Shibden,  and  the 
farm-house  which  he  occupied,  at  the  head  of  the  Shib- 
den Valley,  is  still  in  existence.  The  eldest  son  was 
brought  up  to  his  father's  business.  The  youngest  son, 
Abraham,  was  brought  up  to  farming,  weaving,  and 
combing.  He  married,  and  had  three  children — Abra- 
ham, Thomas,  and  Martha.  Abraham,  the  eldest,  was 
father  of  Mrs.  John  Crosslcv,  nee  Turner. 

Abraham  was  also  brought  up  to  farming  and  manu- 
facturing; but  it  must  be  remembered  that  manufact- 
uring was  in  those  days  conducted  on  a  very  much 
smaller  scale  than  it  is  now.  He  afterward  went  into 
partnership  with  his  brother  Thomas,  to  make  worsted 

10-^ 


226  A  Courtship  Begun.  [CHAP.  XT. 

goods ;  but  after  his  marriage  the  partnership  was  dis- 
solved. He  then  became  the  proprietor  of  the  Scout 
Farm,  and  there  brought  up  his  family. 

Although  Abraham  Turner  was  a  landed  proprietor, 
he  did  not  think  it  beneath  him  to  allow  his  daughter 
Martha  to  go  out  to  service.  When  about  fifteen  years 
old,  she  went  as  a  servant  to  Miss  Oldfield  at  Warley. 
In  that  service,  in  her  own  person,  she  did  the  work  of 
kitchen-maid,  housemaid,  and  cook,  and  in  addition  to 
that,  she  milked  four  or  five  cows  night  and  morning. 
She  remained  about  ten  years  with  Miss  Oldfield.  Her 
wages  were  at  first  fifteen-pence  a  week;  after  two 
years,  they  were  increased  to  eighteen-pence  ;  and  after 
nine  years'  service,  they  were  increased  to  six  guineas 
a  year.  Yet  during  that  time  Martha  Turner  saved 
thirty  pounds  by  sheer  thrift. 

John  Crossley,  the  founder  of  the  Crossley  firm,  and 
the  husband  of  Martha  Turner,  was  originally  a  carpet- 
weaver.  One  night,  when  working  at  the  loom,  he  was 
taking  his  "drinking,"  and  on  laying  down  his  black 
bottle  it  fell  and  broke.  In  trying  to  catch  the  bottle, 
lie  cut  his  arm  so  severely  that  it  was  thought  he  would 
have  bled  to  death.  He  could  not  work  at  the  loom 
any  longer,  and  he  was  going  about  with  his  arm  in  a 
sling,  when  his  employer,  Mr.  Currie,  said  to  him,"  John, 
do  you  think  you  could  tie  up  a  loom,  as  you  can  not 
now  weave  ?"  John  replied  that  he  thought  he  could. 
He  tried,  and  proved  so  expert  that  his  master  would 
not  allow  him  to  go  back  to  the  loom.  John  Crossley 
used  to  regard  the  accident  to  his  arm  as  the  turning- 
point  in  his  life. 

In  the  mean  time  he  was  going  on  with  the  business 
of  courtship,  though  it  was  very  much  against  the  wish 
of  the  proud  farmer  —  the  father  of  Martha  Turner. 
He  declared  that  he  would  never  allow  his  daughter  to 
marry  a  weaver,  or  even  a  foreman  of  weavers.     Per- 


CHAP.  XI.]  A  Courtship  Concluded.  227 

haps  the  story  of  their  courtship  is  best  told  in  Mar- 
tha's own  Avords: 

"When  I  went  to  the  ojate  one  eveniucc,  there  was  a 
j'-oung  man  standing  there,  who  asked  me  if  I  wanted 
a  sweetheart.  I  answered, '  Not  I,  marry  !  I  want  no 
sweethearts.'  I  then  went  into  the  house,  and  left  him. 
I  saw  the  same  young  man  frequently  about,  but  did 
not  speak  to  him  for  years  after.  His  name  was  John 
Crossley.  When  my  mistress  ascertained  his  object, 
she  did  all  she  could  to  set  me  against  him.  She  told 
me  that  when  she  was  a  girl,  she  had  gone  to  a  board- 
ing-school kept  by  a  Mrs.  Crossley — that  her  husband's 
name  was  Tom  Crossley,  the  grandfather  of  this  very 
man  that  was  courting  me  —  and  that  a  wilder,  idler 
scape-grace  she  never  knew.  She  always  said,  when 
she  saw  him  coming,  '  There's  young  Crossley  come 
again.' 

"  One  day  I  received  a  love-letter  from  him,  which  I 
could  now  repeat  word  for  word.  I  had  several  other 
suitors,  but  none  were  so  persevering  as  John  Crossley. 
He  pressed  me  very  much  to  have  him.  At  last  he 
sent  me  a  letter  to  say  that  a  house  was  vacant  in 
Lower  George  Yard,  close  to  the  works  he  was  man- 
aging, and  that  it  was  a  great  chance  to  meet  with  one 
so  convenient.  I  told  him  that  I  was  going  home  to 
spend  the  5th  of  November,  and  would  pass  that  way 
and  look  at  the  house,  which  I  did.  When  I  got  home, 
I  asked  my  parents  for  their  consent.  They  did  not 
object  much  to  it  at  the  time ;  but  I  had  not  been  at 
Miss  Oldfield's  more  than  a  day  or  two,  before  they 
sent  over  my  sister  Grace  to  say  that  they  would  not 
give  their  consent  to  the  match,  and  that  if  I  insisted 
on  being  married  to  John  Crossley,  they  would  never 
look  me  in  the  face  again. 

"So  soon  as  my  sister  was  gone,  I  retired  in  a  most 
distressed  state  of  feeling  to  my  bedroom,  and  opened 


228  John  Crossley  begins  Business.     [CHAP.  XI. 

my  book  that  was  tlie  preparation  for  the  sacrament, 
and  the  first  place  at  Avhich  I  opened  I  read  these 
words:  "When  thy  father  and  thy  mother  forsal^e 
thee,  then  the  Lord  will  take  thee  up."  This  comfort- 
ed me  very  much.  I  felt  that  the  Lord  was  with  me 
in  this  matter,  and  I  could  no  longer  doubt  which  was 

the   path   of  duty I    decided    to    accept    John 

Crossley's  offer,  and  we  were  married  on  the  28th  day 
of  January,  1800." 

Mr.  Crossley  never  did  a  better  day's  work  than  in 
marrying  his  excellent  and  noble  wife.  From  that  day 
forward  she  was  his  helper,  his  co-worker,  his  consoler. 
She  assisted  her  husband  in  all  his  struggles,  and  in  a 
certain  sense  she  was  the  backbone  of  the  Crossley 
famil}'. 

After  the  death  of  Mr.  Job  Lees,  whose  carpet  man- 
ufactory he  had  managed,  Mr.  Crossley  entered  into 
partnership  with  two  other  j^ersons,  to  take  the  plant 
and  carry  on  the  business.  Some  difference  having 
occurred  with  the  partners,  he  left  the  firm,  and  took 
a  lease  of  Dean  Clough  Mill,  where  he  entered  into 
another  partnership  with  his  brother  Thomas,  and 
James  Travers.  There  they  carried  on  the  business  of 
worsted  spinning.  At  the  same  time,  John  Crossley 
continued  to  spin  and  dye  the  yarns  and  to  manage 
the  looms  of  the  firm  which  he  had  left.  Li  fact,  the 
dyeing  and  spinning  for  the  old  firm  formed  a  consid- 
erable part  of  the  business  of  the  new  one.  Then  came 
a  crisis.  The  old  firm  took  away  their  work;  they 
sent  the  wool  to  be  spun  and  the  yarn  to  be  dyed  else- 
where. This  was  a  great  blow;  but  eventually  it  was 
got  over  by  extra  diligence,  energy,  and  thrift — Mrs. 
Crossley  herself  taking  a  full  share  in  the  labors  and 
responsibility  of  her  husband. 

"  In  addition  to  the  carpet-making,"  she  says  in  the 
manuscript  memoir   of  her  life,  "  we   carried   on   the 


CHAP.  XI.]  Dean  Clough  Mill.  229 

manufacture  of  shalloons  and  plainbacks,  the  whole  of 
which  I  managed  myself,  so  flir  as  putting  out  the 
warps  and  weft,  and  taking  in  from  the  weavers.  AVe 
had  at  one  time  as  many  as  a  hundred  and  sixty  hand- 
weavers  on  these  goods.  AYe  sold  the  principal  part 
of  them  in  London.  We  had  also  about  four  looms 
making  brace -webs  and  body -belts.  The  produce  of 
these  looms  I  sold  principally  to  the  Irish,  who  made 
them  up  into  braces  and  hawked  them  about  the  coun- 
try. I  also  made  and  stitched,  with  assistance,  all  the 
carpets  that  we  sold  retail.  I  used  to  get  up  to  work 
by  four  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and,  being  very  dili- 
gent, I  have  usually  earned  two  shillings  before  break- 
fast, by  the  time  that  my  neighbors  were  coming 
down-stairs." 

The  partnership  of  Crossley,  Travers,  &  Crossley 
lasted  for  twenty  years.  When  the  term  had  expired, 
the  partners  shared  their  savings;  they  amounted  to 
four  thousand  two  hundred  pounds,  or  fourteen  hun- 
dred pounds  to  each.  This  was  not  a  very  large  sum 
to  make  during  twenty  years'  hard  work;  but  Dean 
Clough  jMill  was  then  but  a  small  concern,  and  each 
partner  did  his  own  share  of  handiwork  in  spinning, 
dyeing,  and  weaving.  Mrs.  Crossley  says  that  "the 
fourteen  hundred  pounds  came  in  very  useful."  In 
fact,  it  was  only  a  beginning.  John  Crossley  eventu- 
ally bought  the  Dean  Clough  Mills  out  and  out.  He 
liad  a  family  of  eight  children  to  provide  for;  and  he 
put  his  sons,  for  the  most  part,  into  his  business.  They 
followed  the  example  of  their  parents,  and  became 
til  rift y,  useful,  and  honorable  men. 

John  Crossley,  the  founder  of  the  firm,  has  observed 
that,  in  the  course  of  his  life,  lie  was  a  keen  observer 
of  men  and  things.  He  says  he  noticed  many  of  the 
failures  of  his  neighbors  in  bringing  up  their  children. 
Some  lathers  were  so  strict  with  their  children,  keep- 


280  The  Crossley  Family.  [chap.  xi. 

ing  them  so  constantly  at  liome,  and  letting  them  sec 
so  little  of  the  world  in  Avhich  they  lived,  that  when 
the  fathers  died  and  the  children  were  removed  from 
all  restraint,  they  came  forth  into  the  world  like  calves, 
and  found  every  thing  entirely  different  from  what  they 
expected.  Such  unguided  young  persons,  Mr.  Cross- 
ley  found,  soon  became  wild,  lost,  and  ruined.  Then 
lie  observed  the  opposite  extreme — where  the  fathers 
indulged  their  children  so  much  that  they  became  quite 
unfitted  to  endure  the  hardships  of  the  Avorld,  and,  like 
a  vessel  that  is  sent  to  sea  without  a  helm,  they  soon 
became  stranded  on  the  shores  of  life. 

Hence  Mr.  Crossley  endeavored  to  steer  clear  of 
both  extremes,  and  to  give  to  his  sons  as  much  knowl- 
edge and  experience  of  life  as  possible.  When  at  home, 
lie  always  had  one  of  his  sons  near  him;  or  when  he 
Avent  from  home,  he  always  took  one  of  them  with  him. 
Thus  they  gained  a  great  deal  of  practical  knowledge 
of  life,  and  knew  something  of  the  good  and  evil  in  the 
world ;  and  as  they  grew  older,  they  were  all  the  bet- 
ter able  to  turn  their  own  lives  to  the  best  account. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  the  history  of  the  Cross- 
ley  family  further.  John  Crossley  died  in  1837,  after 
which  the  firm  was  conducted  by  John,  Joseph,  and 
Sir  Francis  Crossley,  Bart.  The  latter  represented  the 
West  Riding  of  the  County  of  York  at  the  time  of  his 
death,  a  few  years  ago.  In  1857  he  purchased  a  splen- 
did piece  of  ground,  which  he  presented  to  the  Corpo- 
ration of  Halifax,  to  be  used  as  a  people's  park  for- 
evei'.  In  the  speech  which  he  made  on  the  occasion 
of  presenting  it,  he  said,  among  other  things,  that  he 
had  often  discussed  with  his  friend,  the  mayor,  the  phi- 
losophy of  money.  "  I  recollect  very  well,"  he  said, 
"  once  entering  into  the  question  with  him,  when  I  was 
twenty  years  younger  than  I  am  now,  and  saying  that 
I  saw  a  great  deal  of  emptiness  about  this  money-get- 


CHAP.  XL]  Sir  Francis  Crossley.  231 

ting;  that  many  were  striving  for  that  which  they 
tliought  would  make  them  happy,  but  that  it  was  like 
a  bubble  uj^on  the   water — no   sooner   caught  than 

burst Had  I,"  he  afterward  said,  "  been  of  noble 

birth,  or  traced  my  origin  (like  some  in  this  room)  to 
those  who  came  in  with  William  the  Conqueror,  how- 
ever true  it  might  be,  it  would  not  have  been  good,  it 
would  even  be  boastful  to  have  done  so.*  But  since  I 
am  of  humble  birth,  perhaps  it  will  be  allowed  me  to 
say  a  little  of  those  who  ought  to  share  tlie  honor 
which  is  lieaped  upon  me.  My  mother  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  farmer  who  lived  upon  his  own  estate ;  and  al- 
though it  was  not  large,  it  had  been  in  the  family  for 
many  generations.  Her  father  made  the  same  mistake 
that  Jacob  made.  Jacob  made  too  much  of  Joseph, 
and  her  father  made  too  much  of  Mary.  My  mother 
was  seventeen,  and  quick  in  disposition.  She  said  that 
right  was  not  done  to  her  at  home,  and  she  was  deter- 
mined to  make  her  own  way  in  the  world,  whatever 
the  consequences  might  be.  She  went  out  to  service, 
contrary  to  the  wish  of  her  father.  I  am  honored  to- 
day with  the  presence  of  one  who  has  descended  from 
the  family  who  engaged  her  as  servant :  I  mean  Mr. 
Oldfield,  of  Stock  Lane,  vice-chairman  of  the  Halifax 
Board  of  Guardians.  In  that  service,  in  her  own  per- 
son, she  did  the  work  of  kitchen-maid,  of  house-maid, 
and  of  cook;  and,  in  addition  to  that,  she  regularly 

*  Those  who  "came  in  with  William  the  Conqueror"  are  not  the 
oldest,  but  the  youngest,  of  British  families.  They  are  the  most  recent 
occupiers  of  Biitish  soil.  The  Angles  and  Saxons,  whose  lands  the 
Kormans  divided  among  themselves,  occupied  Britain  many  hundred 
years  before  the  arrival  of  the  Conqueror.  In  the  remote  dales  of 
Yorkshire  and  Lancashire  the  ancient  race  still  exists.  And  thus  the 
Crossley  family  may  have  a  much  longer  pedigree,  could  they  but  trace 
it,  than  any  of  those  who  "came  in  with  William  the  Conqueror." 
The  latter  are  able  to  trace  their  origin  because  their  numbers  are  so 
small,  their  possessions  so  large,  and  their  introduction  as  English  pro- 
prietors comparatively  so  recent. 


282  Martha  Crossley's  Vow.  [CHAP.  XL 

milked  six  cows  every  night  and  morning.  Besides 
-\vliich,  she  kept  the  house,  which  was  as  clean  as  a 
little  palace.  But  this  was  not  enough  to  employ  her 
willing  hands.  Her  mistress  took  in  wool  or  tops  to 
spin,  and  she  could  do  what  scarcely  any  in  Warley 
could  have  done — she  spun  that  wool  to  thirty- six 
hanks  in  the  pound,  and  thus  earned  many  a  guinea 
for  her  mistress,  besides  doing  all  her  other  work."* 

Sir  Francis  went  on  to  relate  the  history  of  his  father 
(as  given  above  from  his  own  manuscript),  until  the 
time  when  he  took  the  Dean  Clough  Mill.  "My  moth- 
er," he  says,  "  went  thither  w' ith  her  usual  energy.  As 
she  was  going  down  the  yard  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  she  made  this  vow,  '  If  the  Lord  does  bless 
us  at  this  place,  the  poor  shall  taste  of  it.'  It  is  to  this 
vow,  given  with  so  much  faithfulness,  and  kept  with  so 
much  fidelity,  that  I  attribute  the  great  success  which 
my  father  had  in  business.  My  mother  was  always 
looking  how  she  could  best  keep  this  vow.  In  the 
days  that  are  gone  by,  when  it  was  a  dreary  thing  to 
give  employment  to  a  large  number  of  people,  the  ad- 
vice that  she  gave  to  her  sons  was, 'Do  not  sell  your 
goods  for  less  than  they  cost,  for  it  would  ruin  you  with- 
out permanently  benefiting  any  one ;  but  if  you  can  go 
on  giving  employment  during  the  winter,  do  so,  for  it  is 
a  bad  thing  for  a  working-man  to  go  home  and  hear  his 
children  cry  for  bread,  when  he  has  none  to  give  them.'" 

And  now  with  respect  to  the  manner  in  which  Sir 
Francis  Crossley  fulfilled  the  vow  of  his  mother.  "  On 
the  10th  of  September,  1855,"  he  said,  "I  left  Quebec 
early  in  the  morning,  for  the  White  Mountains,  in  the 

*  In  these  snobbish  days,  when  rich  people  are  so  often  ashamed  of 
their  fathers  and  grandfathers,  and  vainly  endeavor  to  make  out  their 
ancient  "  nobility,"  it  was  honest  and  manly  on  the  part  of  Sir  Fran- 
cis Crossley  thus  publicly  to  relate  these  facts ;  and  to  share  with  his 
mother  the  honor  of  conferring  his  splendid  present  of  the  People's 
Park  on  the  townsmen  of  Halifax. 


CHAP.  XI.]  Peoples  Park,  Halifax.  233 

United  States.  I  remember  passing  through  some  of 
the  most  glorious  scenery  I  had  ever  seen.  On  reacli- 
ing  the  hotel  at  the  White  Mountains,  I  went  out  alone 
for  an  evening  walk.  It  was  a  beautiful  spot.  The 
sun  was  just  declining  behind  Mount  Washington, 
amidst  all  the  glorious  drapery  of  an  American  sunset. 
I  felt  as  if  I  were  walking  with  God.  'What,'  said  I, 
'  shall  I  render  for  all  his  benefits  to  me  ?  Lord,  what 
wilt  thou  have  me  to  do  ?'  The  answer  came  imme- 
diately. It  was  this :  *  It  is  true  thou  canst  not  bring 
the  many  thousands  thou  hast  left  behind  thee  in  thy 
native  country  to  see  this  beautiful  scenery,  but  thou 
canst  take  such  scenery  to  them.  It  is  possible  so  to 
arrange  art  and  nature  that  they  shall  be  within  the 
reach  of  every  working-man  in  Halifax ;  that  he  shall 
go  and  take  his  evening  walk  there,  after  his  day's  toil 
has  been  done.'  Well,  that  seemed  to  me  a  glorious 
thought !  I  walked  home,  and  my  prayer  that  night 
was,  that  in  the  morning  I  might  feel  that  my  thought 
was  justified,  and  that  I  might  be  spared  to  put  it  in 
execution.  I  slept  soundly  that  night,  and  when  I 
awoke,  my  impression  was  confirmed.  On  the  10th  of 
September,  when  I  left  Quebec  for  the  White  Mount- 
ains, I  had  no  more  idea  of  making  a  park  than  any  one 
here  has  of  building  a  city.  On  the  day  I  reached 
home,  I  felt  as  convinced  that  I  should  carry  out  my 
thought  as  I  was  of  my  own  existence.  And  from  that 
day  to  this  I  have  never  flinched  from  the  undertaking, 
whatever  difticultics  might  arise.  It  is  a  happy  day 
for  me  tliat  I  have  been  permitted  to  see  the  result  in 
the  People's  Park  that  has  been  opened  to-day." 

The  park  was  opened  in  August,  1857.*    Three  years 

*  The  park  is  situated  in  the  centre  of  the  borough  of  Halifax,  nnd 
covers  twelve  acres  and  a  lialf  of  ground.  It  cost  Sir  Francis  Cross- 
ley  thirty-five  thousand  pounds,  wlio  also  gave  to  the  corporation  six 
thousand  three  hundred  ])ounds,  to  be  invested  for  its  maintenance. 


234         '  Marthas  Vow  Fulfilled.  [chap.  xi. 

later,  a  fine  statue  of  Sir  Francis  Crossley  (by  Mr. 
Joseph  Durliam)  was  placed  in  the  park,  so  that  all 
comers,  while  beholding  the  princely  gift,  might  also 
see  the  form  and  features  of  the  giver.  The  cost  of 
the  statue  was  defrayed  by  public  subscription,  in 
which  persons  of  all  political  parties  joined.  The  prep- 
aration of  the  statue  was  delayed  by  the  revolution 
in  Italy  which  placed  Victor  ISmmanuel  on  the  Italian 
throne.  While  the  quarry- men  at  Carrara  were  dig- 
ging out  the  block  of  marble  of  which  the  figure  was  to 
be  sculptured,  they  were  roused  by  shouts  of  "Liber- 
ty !"  coupled  with  the  name  of  Garibaldi,  and  they  left 
their  work  to  join  the  banner  of  that  victorious  leader. 
In  front  of  the  statue  is  the  following  inscription : 
"This  statue  of  Frank  Crossley,  Esq.,  M.P.  for  the 
West  Riding  of  the  county  of  York,  donor  of  the  Peo- 
ple's Park,  was  erected  August  14th,  1860,  by  the  in- 
habitants of  Halifax,  his  native  town,  as  a  tribute  of 
gratitude  and  respect  to  one  whose  public  benefactions 
and  private  virtues  deserve  to  be  remembered." 

But  the  vow  of  Martha  Crossley  was  not  yet  entire- 
ly fulfilled:  "If  the  Lord  does  bless  us  at  this  place, 
the  poor  shall  taste  of  it."  That  was  what  she  prom- 
ised on  her  husband's  entering  into  possession  of  Dean 
Clough  Mills;  and  her  sons  have  nobly  fulfilled  her 
promise.  In  1864,  the  extensive  business  of  John 
Crossley  &  Sons,  with  all  its  mills,  machinery,  plant, 
warehouses,  and  stock  in  trade,  at  Halifax,  Kiddermin- 
ster, Manchester,  and  London,  was  converted  into  a 
joint-stock  company.  The  company  w^as  formed  with 
the  primary  design  of  receiving  the  co-operation  of  all 
parties  associated  with  the  business,  and  with  the  ob- 
ject of  securing  a  spirit  of  harmony  and  the  material 
well-being  and  profit  of  the  work-people,  clerks,  man- 
agers, and  others  interested  in  the  concern.  In  order 
to  enable  the  work-people  to  join  in  the  business,  a 


CHAP.  XI.]  Co-operaiion  of  Colliers.  285 

large  sum  of  money  was  lent  to  them  for  the  purpose 
of  taking  up  returned  shares  in  the  company;  and  the 
work-people  took  them  up  to  a  large  extent.  A  pref- 
erence was  always  given  to  the  managers  and  opera- 
tives ;  and  the  amount  of  shares  applied  for  by  them 
was  invariably  allotted  in  full. 

The  results  of  this  system  have  proved  entirely 
satisfactory;  the  directors  reporting  that  "the  active 
energies  of  all  parties  necessary  to  insure  success  have 
been  fully  enlisted.  They  claim  originality  in  their 
method  of  securing  the  direct  interest  of  the  employh^ 
and  they  rejoice  in  being  able  to  rejDort  that  the  sys- 
tem has  more  than  realized  their  highest  expecta- 
tions."* At  the  present  time,  the  employes  hold  shares 
in  the  company  of  the  value  of  about  thirty  thousand 
pounds ;  and  the  deposit  bank,  founded  for  the  use  of 
the  work-people  exclusively,  contains  money- savings 
amounting  to  more  than  sixteen  thousand  pounds ! 
And  thus  the  vow  of  Martha  Crossley  that  the  poor 
should  taste  of  the  prosperity  of  John  Crossley  &  Sons 
has  been  amply  and  nobly  fulfilled  ! 

One  of  the  most  promising  of  co-operative  undertak- 
ings established  by  employers  for  the  benefit  of  their 
work-people  was  that  of  the  Messrs.  Briggs  &  Son, 
of  Whitwood  collieries,  near  "Wakefield.  The  coll- 
ieries were  converted  into  a  limited  company  in  1865. 
The  working  colliers  were  made  partners  in  the  pros- 
perity of  the  concern  to  this  extent — that  whenever 
the  divisible  profits  accruing  from  the  business  in, any 
year,  after  making  allowance  for  depreciation,  exceed- 
ed ten  per  cent,  on  the  capital  embarked,  all  those  em- 
ployed by  the  company  were  to  receive  one- half  of 
such  excess  profit  as  a  bonus,  to  be  distributed  among 

*  "  Keports  of  the  raris  Universal  Exhibition,  1807,"  vol.  vi., 
pp.  119-141. 


236  Partnership  of  Industry.         [chap.  XL 

them  in  proportion  to  their  respective  earnings  during 
the  year.  The  object  of  the  owners  was  to  put  an  end 
to  strikes,  -which  had  sometimes  placed  them  in  peril 
of  their  lives,  and  also  to  enable  them  to  live  on  better 
terms  with  their  work-people.  The  colliers  were  in- 
vited to  become  share-holders,  and  thus  to  take  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  prosperity  of  the  concern. 

The  project  was  received  with  great  favor  by  the 
friends  of  co-operation.  Mr.  John  Stuart  Mill,  in  his 
"  Principles  of  Political  Economy,"  announced  that 
"the  Messrs.  Briggs  had  taken  \\\q  first  step ;  and  that 
it  was  highly  honorable  on  the  part  of  those  employ- 
ers of  labor  to  have  initiated  a  system  so  full  of  benetit 
both  to  the  operatives  employed  and  to  the  general 
interests  of  social  improvement."  Mr.  Hughes,  M.P., 
after  visiting  the  collieries,  expressed  his  surprise  at 
the  jxreat  success  achieved  in  the  first  year  of  workinsr 
the  collieries  as  a  partnership  of  industry.  "  I  believe," 
he  said  to  the  owners,  "  that  in  taking  this  step  you 
have  done  a  great  work  for  England,  and  one  which 
will  be  gratefully  recognized  before  long  by  the  coun- 
try." The  promoters  also  claimed  a  reward  from  the 
Paris  Universal  Exhibition,  for  having  been  "  the  first 
large  employers  in  England  who  have  allowed  all 
their  work-people,  w'hether  co-share-holders  with  them 
or  not,  to  participate  in  all  divisible  profits  beyond  a 
fixed  percentage  on  the  paid-up  capital  of  the  company." 

Only  a  few  years  have  passed,  and  already  this 
promising  partnership  of  industry  has  come  to  an  end. 
It  has  not  been  brought  to  an  end  by  the  masters, 
but  by  the  men.  The  masters  were  satisfied  with  the 
profits  made  during  the  recent  high  j^rices  of  coal ; 
but  the  men  were  not  satisfied  with  the  w%ages.  Had 
they  been  as  free  as  the  Welsh  colliers,  they  would 
have  insisted  on  being  paid  as  highly;  but  it  would 
liave  been,  as  it  was  in  Wales,  ruinous  to  the  masters. 


CHAP.  XL]        Other  Co-operative  Schenies.  237 

The  system  of  industrial  partnership  liad  at  length  to 
be  abandoned,  and  the  men  now  work  for  wages  in- 
stead of  for  part  -  profits.  The  truth  is,  the  colliers 
were  not  sufficiently  educated  to  appreciate  tlie  ad- 
vantacjes  of  the  industrial  scheme.  Thou<xh  some  of 
the  Whitwood  workmen  have  been  stimulated  by 
thrift  to  build  and  furnish  houses  of  their  own,  tlie 
greater  number  of  them,  during  the  recent  flush  of 
prosperity,  squandered  their  wages  on  frivolity,  ex- 
travagance, and  intemperance. 

Tlie  attempt  was  also  made  by  several  firms  engaged 
in  the  iron-trade  to  embody  the  principle  of  co-opera- 
tion in  their  respective  concerns.  Among  these  were 
the  firms  of  Greening  &  Co.,  Manchester,  and  Fox, 
Head,  &  Co.,  Middlesborough.  Tlie  experiments  were 
to  a  certain  extent  brought  to  an  end  by  the  greed  or 
laziness  of  the  colliers,  who  have  for  a  time  destroyed 
the  prosperity  of  the  iron  trade.  Messrs.  Greening  & 
Co.  started  with  great  enthusiasm;  and  the  results 
were  very  successful  as  regards  the  work-people. 
Nothing  could  have  been  better  than  the  spirit  of  good- 
will, and  even  devotion,  which  was  displayed  by  many 
of  them.  But,  unhappily,  contracts  were  taken  by  the 
management  which  resulted  in  a  series  of  losses ;  and 
the  scheme  ended  in  liquidation.  Mr.  Greening  states 
that  "  the  distribution  societies  have  as  yet  been  much 
more  successful  than  the  production  societies;"  but  he 
hopes  "  to  see  the  latter  crown  the  edifice  by  making 
workers  everywhere  no  longer  servants,  but  co-part- 
ners with  capital." 

The  firm  of  Fox,  Head,  &  Co.  also  admitted  their 
workmen  to  a  partnership  of  profits.  They  liad  for 
some  time  been  much  annoyed  by  strikes.  Their  works 
had  stood  idle  for  about  a  fourth  of  the  whole  time 
that  had  elapsed  since  their  commencement.  The  sys- 
tem of  co-operation  was  adopted  in  1866,  at  the  close 


238  Jeremiah  Head.  [CHAP.  XL 

of  a  long  strike.  One  of  the  conditions  of  the  scheme 
was  that  Fox,  Head,  &  Co.  should  not  be  members  of 
any  association  of  employers,  and  that  the  workmen 
should  not  be  members  of  any  trades-union.  The  orig- 
inal intention  was  to  pay  the  workmen  a  bonus  accord- 
ing to  profits.  They  eventually  adopted  the  practice 
of  the  Messrs.  Briggs  &  Co.,  Avhicli  was,  to  divide  the 
profits  over  ten  per  cent,  into  two  j^arts :  the  one  to  be- 
long to  the  capitalists  as  their  profit,  and  the  other  to 
be  divided  among  all  those  who  had.  received  wages  or 
salaries  daring  the  year,  in  proportion  to  the  amount 
received  by  them.  An  opportunity  was  also  afforded 
to  the  workmen  of  depositing  their  savings  with  the 
firm ;  but  as  there  was  only  one  instance,  during  three 
years,  of  a  workman  applying  to  invest  his  savings, 
this  clause  vv'as  withdrawn. 

In  consequence  of  the  depressed  state  of  the  iron 
trade,  there  were  no  profits  to  be  divided  during  the 
first  two  years.  The  men  were,  however,  paid  the 
current  rate  of  wages,  and  were  saved  the  expenses  of 
union  levies.  The  co-operative  store,  which  had  been 
founded  by  the  workmen,  was  in  a  very  prosperous  con- 
dition. In  the  third  year  of  the  co-operative  scheme,  a 
bonus  of  two  and  a  half  per  cent,  was  divided  between 
the  employers  and  the  employed.  The  workmen  also 
received  an  advance  of  five  per  cent,  in  wages.  In  the 
fourth  year  the  wages  of  the  workmen  were  further  in- 
creased ten  per  cent.,  and  this  took  the  cream  off  the 
bowl.  However,  a  bonus  of  four  per  cent,  was  paid  on 
the  wages  and  salaries  received  by  the  employes  during 
that  year.  At  the  meeting  held  to  communicate  the 
result  of  the  year's  business,  Mr.  Head  said: 

"There  may  be  some  who  think  the  tendency  of  our 
policy  has  been  too  sentimental.  I  don't  believe  in  do- 
ing business  on  sentimental  principles ;  but  I  contend 
that  mere  money-making  is  not  the  sole  end  of  exist- 


CHAP.  XI.]  Kewport  RolUng-milb.  289 

ence.  "VVe  have  been  associated  with  many  of  you  for 
several  years,  and  we  can  not  help  feeling  a  considera- 
ble interest  in  you.  After  all,  life  is  not  so  very  long. 
Another  twenty  or  thirty  years  will  see  us  all  under 
ground,  and  there  will  be  other  employers  and  other 
workmen  carrying  on  business  at  Newport  Rolling-mills. 
It  would,  indeed,  be  strange  if  we  did  not  take  some  in- 
terest in  those  with  whom  we  are  so  much  associated. 
And  so,  without  in  the  least  relaxing  discipline,  or  sac- 
'  rificing  any  true  principle  of  business,  we  hold  it  to  be 
our  duty  as  employers,  as  well  as  your  duties  as  em- 
2)loyes^  to  consider  each  other's  interests,  and  to  do  all 
that  each  of  us  can  in  the  way  of  true  and  hearty  co- 
operation." 

The-  coal  famine  began  to  tell  upon  the  iron-workers. 
The  furnaces  were  often  laid  off  for  want  of  coal.  The 
principal  causes  of  the  bad  supply  of  coal  arose  from 
shorter  hours  of  labor,  and  higher  wages  for  less  work. 
Yet  a  bonus  of  three  and  a  quarter  per  cent,  was  al- 
lowed on  the  wages  and  salaries  received  by  the  em- 
2)loyes  during  the  year  1871.  The  co-operative  stores 
continued  to  be  very  productive,  and  many  of  the 
members  saved  considerable  sums  of  money.  -  In  the 
next  year,  a  bonus  of  three  and  a  half  per  cent,  was 
divided.  But  difficulties  were  in  store.  The  coal 
famine  continued.  The  employers  of  labor  held  meet- 
ings to  resist  the  successive  advances  of  wages,  and  to 
counteract  the  operations  of  the  trades-unions. 

Mr.  Head  strongly  urged  the  men  to  hold  togeth- 
er :  "  Cease  to  be  deluded,"  he  said, "  by  these  trades- 
unions.  Save  all  you  can,  and  with  your  savings  pro- 
vide against  the  day  of  sickness — a  day  Avhich  is  sure 
to  come,  sooner  or  later.  Provide  for  old  age;  read 
good  books:  you  have  every  chance  now,  with  a  free 
library  in  the  town.  Give  credit  to  others  for  wishing 
to  be  straightforward  and  lionest  as  well  as  yourselves ; 


240  Bonuses  to  Wo7^kmen.  [chap.  xi. 

and  in  every  way  I  would  ask  you  to  act  as  reasona- 
ble, straightforward,  sensible,  English  workmen  ought 
to  do.  Show  that  you  can  appreciate  being  well  used, 
that  you  can  appreciate  those  who  put  themselves  to 
trouble  that  they  may  do  you  good ;  and  beware  lest, 
by  want  of  sympathy,  you  drive  the  best  of  the  em- 
ployers out  of  the  business,  and  retain  those  alone  who 
are  despotic  and  tyrannical.  Cease  to  follow  those 
who  are  actuated  by  self-interest,  or  by  blind  impulse; 
who  do  not  care  a  bit  if  they  get  you  into  trouble,  pro- 
vided only  they  serve  their  own  selfish  ends.  Such 
men  are  but  blind  leaders  of  the  blind,  and  if  you  fol- 
low them  you  will  eventually  find  yourselves  deserted, 
and  lying  hopelessly  and  helplessly  in  the  last  ditch." 

It  was  of  no  use.  The  men's  wages  went  up  twenty 
per  cent. ;  and  there  was  an  end  of  the  bonuses.  Tlie 
coal  famine  continued.  The  masters,  instead  of  making 
profits,  made  immense  losses.  The  price  of  iron  went 
down.  Tlie  mills  stood  idle  for  two  months.  The 
result  was,  that  when  the  masters  next  met  the  work- 
men in  public  meeting,  Mr.  Waterhouse,  the  auditor, 
reported  that  "  while  the  gross  earnings  of  the  year 
have  exceeded  the  expenditure  on  materials,  wages, 
and  trade  charges,  they  have  been  insufficient  to  cover 
the  full  amounts  to  be  provided  under  the  co-operative 
scheme  for  interest  on  capital,  depreciation,  and  the 
reserve  for  bad  debts;  and  that,  consequently,  it  was 
his  duty  to  declare  that  no  amount  was  at  present 
payable  as  bonus  either  to  employers  or  employed." 
No  further  report  was  issued  in  1875,  excepting  an  an- 
nouncement that  there  was  no  dividend,  and  that  the 
firm  did  not  intend  to  continue  the  co-operative  scheme 
any  longer.  During  the  time  that  it  lasted,  the  €77i- 
2:>loyes  had  received  about  eight  thousand  pounds  in 
bonuses. 

Since  then,  Sir  Joseph   Whitworth   has    announced 


CHAP.  XI.]  Mr.  Carlyles  Letter.  241 

his  intention  of  giving  his  workmen  a  bonus  upon  his 
profits ;  but  the  principle  of  the  division  has  not  yet 
been  announced.  On  hearing  of  his  intention,  Mr.  Car- 
lyle  wrote  the  following  letter  to  Sir  Joseph : 

"  Would  to  Heaven  that  all  the  captains  of  industry 
in  England  had  a  soul  in  them  such  as  yours.  The 
look  of  England  is  to  me  at  this  moment  abundantly 
ominous,  the  question  of  capital  and  labor  growing 
ever  more  anarchic,  insoluble  altogether  by  the  notions 
hitherto  applied  to  it  —  pretty  sure  to  issue  in  petro- 
leum one  day,  unless  some  other  gospel  than  that  of 
the  *  Dismal  Science '  come  to  illuminate  it.  Two  things 
are  pretty  sure  to  me.  The  first  is  that  capital  and 
labor  never  can  or  will  agree  together  till  they  both, 
first  of  all,  decide  on  doing  their  work  faithfully 
throughout,  and  like  men  of  conscience  and  honor, 
whose  highest  aim  is  to  behave  like  faithful  citizens 
of  this  universe,  and  obey  the  eternal  commandments 
of  Almighty  God,  who  made  them.  The  second  thing 
is,  that  a  sadder  object  than  even  that  of  the  coal  strike, 
or  any  other  conceivable  strike,  is  the  fact  that — loose- 
ly speaking — we  may  say  all  England  has  decided 
that  the  profitablest  way  is  to  do  its  work  ill,  slurrily, 
swiftly,  and  mendaciously.  What  a  contrast  between 
now  and  say  only  a  hundred  years  ago  !  At  the  latter 
date  all  England  awoke  to  its  work — to  an  invocation 
to  the  Eternal  Maker  to  bless  them  in  their  day's  la- 
bor, and  help  them  to  do  it  well.  Now,  all  England — 
shop-keepers,  workmen,  all  manner  of  competing  la- 
borers—  awaken  as  with  an  unspoken  but  heart -felt 
prayer  to  Beelzebub  :  *  Oh,  help  us,  thou  great  Lord  of 
Shoddy,  Adulteration,  and  Malfeasance,  to  do  our  work 
with  the  maximum  of  slurriness,  swiftness,  profit,  and 
mendacity,  for  the  devil's  sake.     Amen.'" 

Fortunately,  there  is  not  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  this 
letter,  nor  in  the  "  heart-felt  prayer"  to  Shoddy.     The 

11 


242  A  Contrast.  [chap,  xi; 

Right  Hon.  Mr.  Forster  ought  to  know  something  of 
labor  and  capital,  and  at  a  recent  meeting  of  the  Cob- 
den  Club  he  stated  that  "they  were  often  told  that 
they  had  a  war  within  their  borders  between  labor  and 
capital ;  but,  as  an  employer  of  labor  ever  since  he  came 
to  manhood,  he  would  only  say  that  he  never  knew  a 
time  in  which  employer  and  employed  were  on  better 
terms." 

The  late  Sir  Francis  Crossley  observed  that  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  unreasonable  feeling  abroad.  It 
was  held  by  some  that  it  was  wrong  for  working-men 
to  sell  their  labor  at  the  best  price ;  but  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  their  labor  was  the  only  thing  they  had 
to  sell,  and  the  best  thing  to  do  was  to  leave  those  mat- 
ters to  take  their  natural  course.  It  was  a  great  mis- 
take, on  the  part  of  employers,  to  suppose  that  the  low- 
est-priced labor  was  always  the  cheapest.  If  there  were 
not  so  much  desire  to  run  down  the  price  of  labor,  and 
the  masters  showed  a  more  conciliatory  spirit,  there 
would  be  fewer  strikes  and  outrages. 

"  What  a  contrast  between  now  and,  say,  only  a  hun- 
dred years  ago  !"  Certainly  there  is  a  very  great  con- 
trast. England  was  not  a  manufacturing  country  a  hun- 
dred years  ago.  We  imported  nearly  every  thing,  ex- 
cept corn,  wool,  and  flax.  We  imported  the  greatest 
part  of  our  iron  from  Spain,  Sweden,  Germany,  and  Rus- 
sia. We  imported  our  pottery  from  Holland,  our  hats 
from  Flanders,  our  silk  from  France,  our  cloth  and  car- 
pets from  Belgium.  Our  cotton  manufactures,  our  wool- 
en and  flax  manufactures,  our  machine  manufactures, 
could  scarcely  be  said  to  exist.  Coal  could  scarcely  be 
had,  for  the  coal-pits  could  not  be  kept  clear  of  water. 

A  hundred  years  ago,  we  could  not  build  a  steam- 
engine  ;  we  could  scarcely  build  a  bridge.  Look  at 
the  churches  built  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  behold  the 
condition  of  our  architecture.     A  hundred  years  ago, 


CHAP.  XI.]         A  Hundred  Years  Ago.  243 

we  had  fallen  to  almost  the  lowest  condition  as  a  na- 
tion. "We  had  not  a  harbor;  we  had  not  a  dock.  The 
most  extensive  system  of  robbery  prevailed  on  the 
River  Thames.  The  roads,  such  as  they  were,  swarm- 
ed with  highwaymen ;  and  black-mail  was  levied  by 
the  Highlanders  upon  the  Lowland  farmers  down  to 
the  middle  of  last  century. 

A  hundred  years  ago,  our  ships  were  rotten  ;  they 
were  manned  by  prisoners  taken  from  the  hulks,  or  by 
working-men  pressed  in  the  streets  in  open  day.  When 
James  Watt  was  learning  his  trade  of  an  instrument- 
maker  in  London,  a  hundred  years  ago,  he  durst  scarce- 
ly walk  abroad  lest  he  should  be  seized  and  sent  to  In- 
dia or  the  American  plantations.  Less  than  a  hundred 
years  ago,  the  colliers  and  salters  of  Scotland  were 
slaves.  It  is  not  forty  years  since  Avomen  and  children 
worked  in  coal-pits.  Surely  we  are  not  to  go  down 
upon  our  knees  and  pray  for  a  restoration  of  the  hor- 
rible thinofs  that  existed  a  hundred  years  ao-o. 

A  hundred  years  ago,  Ireland  was  treated  like  a 
slave  country,  and  hangings  and  shootings  of  rebels 
were  frequent.  The  fleet  at  the  Nore  mutinied,  and 
the  mutiny  was  put  down  by  bloodshed  and  execu- 
tions. Towns  and  cities  swarmed  with  ruffians,  and 
brutal  sports  and  brutal  language  existed  to  a  fright- 
ful degree.  Criminals  were  hanged,  five  or  six  togeth- 
er, at  Tyburn.  Gibbets  existed  at  all  the  cross-roads 
throughout  the  country.  The  people  were  grossly  ig- 
norant, and  altogether  neglected.  Skepticism  and  ir- 
religion  prevailed,  until  Wesley  and  Whitefield  sprung 
up  to  protest  against  formalism  and  atheism.  They 
were  pelted  with  rotten  eggs,  sticks,  and  stones.  A 
Methodist  preacher  was  whipped  out  of  Gloucester. 

A  hundred  years  ago,  literature  was  at  a  very  low 
ebb.  The  press  was  in  a  miserable  state.  William 
Whitehead  was  poet  laureate  !     Who  knows  of  him 


244  Popular  Amusements.  [chap.  xi. 

now  ?  Gibbon  had  not  written  his  "  Decline  and  Fall." 
Junius  was  the  popular  writer :  political  corruption 
was  scarified  in  his  letters.  The  npper  classes  were 
coarse,  drunken,  and  ill-mannered.  Bribery  and  cor- 
ruption on  the  grossest  scale  were  the  principal  means 
for  getting  into  Parliament.  ^Ir.  Dowdeswell,M.P.  for 
Worcestershire,  said  to  the  Commons,  "  You  have  turn- 
ed out  a  member  for  impiety  and  obscenity.  What 
half-dozen  members  of  this  House  ever  meet  over  a 
convivial  bottle,  that  their  discourse  is  entirely  free 
from  obscenity,  impiety,  or  abuse  of  Government  ?" 

Though  drunkenness  is  bad  enough  now,  it  was  in- 
finitely worse  a  hundred  years  ago.  The  publicans' 
sign-boards  announced,  "  You  may  here  get  drunk  for 
a  penny,  dead -drunk  for  twopence,  and  have  clean 
straw  for  nothing."  Drunkenness  was  considered  a 
manly  vice.  To  drink  deep  was  the  fashion  of  the  day. 
Six -bottle  men  were  common.  Even  drunken  clergy- 
men were  not  unknown. 

What  were  the  popular  amusements  of  the  j^eople  a 
hundred  years  ago  ?  They  consisted  j^rincipally  of 
man-fighting,  dog-fighting,  cock-fighting,  bull-baiting, 
badger-drawing,  the  pillory,  public  whipping,  and  pub- 
lic executions.  Mr.  Wyndham  vindicated  the  ruffian- 
ism of  the  ring  in  his  place  in  Parliament,  and  held  it 
up  as  a  school  in  which  Englishmen  learned  pluck  and 
"  the  manly  art  of  self-defense."  Bull-baiting'  was  per- 
haps more  brutal  than  prize-fighting,  though  Wynd- 
ham defended  it  as  "  calculated  to  stimulate  the  noble 
courage  of  Englishmen."  The  bull  was  secured  to  a 
stake  in  the  market-place  or  the  bull-ring  (the  name 
still  survives  in  many  towns),  and  there  the  animal 
was  baited  by  the  rabble  dogs  of  the  neighborhood. 
One  can  scarcely  imagine  the  savageness  of  the  sport 
— the  animal  mutilations,  the  imprecations  of  rufiSans 
worse  than  brutes,  the  ferociousness  and  drunkenness. 


CHAP.  XI.]        Improvement  of  Manners.  245 

the  blasphemy  and  unspeakable  liorrors  of  tbe  exhibi- 
tion. The  public  mind  of  this  day  absolutely  revolts 
at  such  brutality.  Yet,  less  than  a  hundred  years  ago 
— on  the  24th  of  May,  1802— a  bill  for  the  abolition  of 
bull -baiting  was  lost  in  the  House  of  Commons  by 
sixty-four  to  fifty-one — Mr.  Wyudham  contending  that 
horse-racing  and  hunting  were  more  cruel  than  bull- 
baiting  or  prize-fighting ! 

The  pillory  was  one  of  our  time-honored  institutions 
fifty  years  ago,  and  men  and  women  used  to  be  placed 
there  for  offenses  such  as  a  wise  legislature  would  have 
endeavored  to  conceal  from  public  consideration.  The 
horrid  scenes  which  then  took  place,  when  men,  women, 
and  children  collected  in  crowds  to  pelt  the  offenders 
with  missiles,  were  so  disgusting  that  they  can  not  be 
described.  Xot  more  seemly  were  the  public  whip- 
pings then  administered  to  women  in  common  with  the 
coarsest  male  offenders.  The  public  abominations  and 
obscenities  of  the  "  good  old  times  "  would  almost  have 
disgraced  the  days  of  Nero. 

But  bull-baiting,  cock-fighting,  and  other  ferocious 
amusements  have  now  departed.  Even  the  village 
stocks  have  rotted  out.  Drunkenness  has  become 
disreputable.  The  "good  old  times"  have  departed, 
we  hope  never  to  return.  The  laborer  has  now  other 
resources  besides  the  public -house.  There  are  exhi- 
bitions and  people's  parks,  steamboats  and  railways, 
reading-rooms  and  coffee-rooms,  museums,  gardens, 
and  cheap  concerts.  In  place  of  the  disgusting  old 
amusements,  there  have  come  a  healthier,  sounder  life, 
greater  enlightenment,  more  general  sobriety,  and  a 
liumaner  spirit.  We  have  in  a  hundred  years  out- 
grown many  of  our  savage  tendencies.  We  are  not 
less  brave  as  a  people,  though  less  brutal.  We  are 
quite  as  manh',  though  much  less  gross.  Manners 
are  more  refined,  yet  as  a  people  we  have  not  lost  our 


246  English  Mechanics  and  Workmen.    [CHAP.  XT. 

pluck,  energy,  and  endurance.  We  respect  ourselves 
more,  and  as  a  nation  we  have  become  more  respected. 
We  now  think  with  shame  of  the  manners  of  a  hundred 
years  ago. 

The  achievements  of  which  England  has  most  reason 
to  be  proud  have  been  accomplished  during  the  last 
hundred  years.  English  slaves  have  been  emancipated, 
both  at  home  and  abroad.  Impressment  has  been  done 
away  w^ith.  Parliamentary  representation  has  been 
conferred  upon  all  classes  of  the  people.  The  Corn 
Laws  have  been  abolished.  Free  trade  has  been  es- 
tablished.    Our  ports  are  now  open  to  the  whole  world. 

And,  then,  see  what  our  inventors  have  accomplish- 
ed. James  Watt  invented  the  steam-engine,  which  in 
a  few  years  created  a  large  number  of  new  industries, 
and  gave  employment  to  immense  numbers  of  people. 
Henry  Cort  invented  the  puddling  process,  and  enabled 
England  to  rely  upon  its  own  stores  of  iron,  instead  of 
depending  upon  foreign  and  perhaps  hostile  countries. 
All  the  docks  and  harbors  round  the  English  coast 
have  been  formed  during  the  present  centurj^  The 
steamboat,  the  railway,  and  the  telegraph  have  only 
been  invented  and  applied  during  the  last  fifty  years. 

With  respect  to  tlie  charge  made  against  the  En- 
glish workman  as  to  the  "  slurriness,  swiftness,  and 
mendacity"  of  his  work,  it  is  simply  impossible  that 
this  should  be  so.  Oift*  ports  are  free  and  open  to  the 
world ;  and  if  Frenchmen,  Germans,  Belgians,  or  Amer- 
icans could  execute  better  work  than  Englishmen,  we 
should  not  only  cease  to  export,  but  also  lose  our  home 
trade.  The  foreigner  is  now  free  to  undersell  us,  if  lie 
can,  in  our  own  markets. 

It  was  in  the  perfect  confidence  that  Englishmen 
were  the  best  and  most  honest  workers  in  the  world, 
that  free  trade  was  established.  Should  we  ever  be- 
come a  shoddy -manufacturing  people,  free  trade  will 


CHAP.  XL]    English  Engineers  and  Miners.  247 

probably  be  abolished  ;  and  we  shall  then  impose  pro- 
hibitory duties  upon  foreign  manufactures.  But  is  it 
not  the  fact  that  every  year  sees  an  increase  in  the  ex- 
ports of  English  goods — that  English  workmanship  is 
not  considered  the  worst,  but  the  best,  in  the  general 
markets  of  the  world  —  and  tliat  numerous  foreign 
makers  place  an  English  mark  upon  tlieir  productions 
in  order  to  insure  their  sale  ? 

It  is  by  means  of  English  workmen,  and  English 
tools  and  machines,  that  continental  manuflxctories 
themselves  have  been  established ;  and  yet,  notwith- 
standing their  cheaper  labor,  we  should  command  the 
foreign  market,  but  for  the  prohibitory  duties  which 
foreigners  impose  upon  English  manufactures.  Mr. 
Brassey,  in  his  book  on  "  Work  and  Wages,"  says :  "  It 
may  be  affirmed  that  as  practical  mechanics  the  En- 
glish are  unsurpassed.  Tlie  presence  of  the  English 
engineer,  the  solitary  representative,  among  a  crew  of 
foreigners,  of  the  mechanical  genius  of  his  country,  is  a 
familiar  recollection  to  all  who  have  traveled  much  in 
the  steamers  of  the  Mediterranean.  Consul  Lever  says 
that  in  the  vast  establishment  of  the  Austrian  Lloyd's 
at  Trieste,  a  number  of  Engjlish  mechanical  eno-ineers 

7  0  o 

are  employed,  not  only  in  the  workshops,  but  as  nav- 
igating engineers  in  the  company's  fleet.  Although 
there  is  no  difficulty  in  substituting  for  these  men  Ger- 
mans or  Swiss,  at  lower  rates  of  payment,  the  uniform 
accuracy  of  the  English,  their  intelligence,  their  con- 
summate mastery  of  all  the  details  of  their  art,  and 
their  resources  in  every  case  of  difficulty,  have  entirely 
established  their  superiority."^' 

The  English  are  also  the  best  miners,  the  best  tool- 
makers,  the  best  instrument-makers,  the  best "  navvies," 
the  best  ship-builders,  the  best  spinners  and  weavers. 

*  "Work  and  Wages,"  p.  114. 


248  Swiftness  of  Machinery.  [CHAP.  xi. 

Mr.  Brassey  says  that  during  the  construction  of  the 
Paris  and  Rouen  Railway,  the  Frenchman,  Irishman, 
and  Englishman  were  employed  side  by  side.  In  the 
same  quarry  at  Bonnieres,  the  Frenchman  received 
three  francs,  the  Irishman  four,  and  the  Englishman 
six ;  and  the  last  was  found  to  be  the  most  advanta- 
geous workman  of  the  three.  The  superiority  of  the 
English  workman  over  persons  of  other  nations  was 
equally  remarkable  whenever  there  was  an  opportu- 
nity of  employing  him  side  by  side  with  them. 

There  is  no  doubt  about  the  "swiftness"  of  English 
workmanship ;  but  this  is  one  of  the  merits  of  English 
mechanism.  M.  Jules  Simon  observes  that  heretofore 
the  manual  laborer  has  been  an  intelligent  force,  but 
by  means  of  machinery  he  is  converted  into  an  intelli- 
gent director  of  force.  It  is  by  the  speed  of  the  En- 
glish machinery,  and  the  intelligent  quickness  of  the 
workman,  that  his  master  makes  a  profit,  and  himself 
such  high  wages  as  compared  with  Continental  work- 
men. In  France,  one  person  is  employed  to  mind  four- 
teen spindles;  in  Russia,  one  to  twenty-eight;  in 
Prussia,  one  to  thirty-seven  ;  and  in  Great  Britain,  one 
to  seventy-four  spindles.  It  is  by  means  of  the  swift- 
ness of  our  machinery  that  we  are  enabled  to  bring 
cotton  from  India,  manufacture  it  in  Manchester,  re- 
turn the  manufactured  article  to  the  place  from  which 
it  was  taken,  and  sell  it  at  a  lower  jorice  than  the  na- 
tive-made calico. 

Mr.  Chadwick  mentions  the  following  case:  A  lady, 
the  wife  of  an  eminent  cotton -manufacturer,  went  to 
him  one  day  rejoicing,  with  a  fine  piece  of  muslin,  as 
the  produce  of  India,  which  she  had  bought  in  London, 
and  showing  it  to  him,  said,  if  he  produced  a  fabric 
like  that,  he  would  really  be  doing  something  merito- 
rious in  textile  art.  He  examined  it,  and  found  that 
it  was  tlie  produce  of  his  own  looms,  near  Manchester, 


CHAP.  XI.]  Foreign  Workmen.  249 

made  for  the  Indihn  market  exclusively,  bouglit  there, 
and  resold  in  England  as  rare  Indian  manufacture  !* 

An  annual  report  is  furnished  to  the  Government, 
by  our  foreign  consuls,  with  reference  to  the  charac- 
ter and  condition  of  the  working-classes  in  most  parts 
of  the  civilized  world.  Mr.  Walter,  M.P.,  in  a  recent 
address  to  an  assembly  of  workmen,  referred  to  one 
of  these  reports.  lie  said,  "  There  is  one  remark,  in 
particular,  that  occurs  with  lamentable  frequency 
throughout  the  report,  that,  with  few  exceptions,  tlie 
foreign  workman  does  not  appear  'to  take  pride  in  his 
work,'  nor  (to  use  a  significant  expression)  to  'put  his 
character  into  it.'  A  remarkable  instance  of  this  is 
mentioned  of  a  country  which  generally  constitutes  an 
lionorable  exception  to  this  unhappy  rule.  Switzer- 
land is  a  country  famous  for  its  education  and  its 
watches;  yet  the  following  passage  from  the  report 
will  show  that  neither  knowledge  nor  skill  will  suffice 
without  the  exercise  of  that  higher  quality  on  which 
I  have  been  dwelling.  'As  a  rule,'  it  says,  'Swiss 
workmen  are  competent  in  their  several  trades,  and 
take  an  interest  in  their  work;  for,  thanks  to  their 
superior  education,  they  fully  appreciate  the  pecun- 
iary advantages  to  their  masters,  and  indirectly  to 
themselves,  of  adliering  strictly  to  this  course.  A 
striking  instance  of  the  policy  of  acting  otherwise  has 
lately  happened  at  St.  Imier,  in  the  Bernese  Jura,  and 
produced  a  deep  impression.  In  this  district,  for  some 
years  past,  a  great  falling -off  in  the  quality  of  the 
watches  manufactured  has  taken  place,  owing  to  the 
inhabitants  finding  it  much  more  profitable  to  increase 
the  production  at  the  cost  of  the  workmanship  than  to 
abide  by  the  old  rules  of  the  trade.     They  prospered 

*  "Address  on  Economy  and  Free  Trade,"  by  Edwin  Chadwick, 
C.B.,  at  the  Association  "for  the  Troraotion  of  Social  Science  at 
York,  18G4. 

11* 


250  Foreign  Workmen.  [CHAP.  XI. 

beyond  all  expectation  for  a  considerable  time,  but 
finally  their  watches  got  such  a  bad  name  that  they 
became  unsalable,  and  the  result  is  a  general  bank- 
ruptcy of  nearly  all  the  Avatch-makers  of  this  particular 
district." 

One  thing,  howevei',  remains  to  be  said  of  foreign 
workmen  generally.  Although  they  do  not  work  so 
hard  as  the  English,  they  take  much  better  care  of 
their  earnings.  They  are  exceedingly  frugal  and  eco- 
nomical. Frenchmen  are  much  soberer  than  English- 
men, and  much  better -mannered.  They  are,  on  the 
whole,  greatly  more  provident  than  English  workmen, 
Mr.  Brassey  states  that  when  the  Paris  and  Rouen  Rail- 
way works  were  commenced,  the  contractors  endeavor- 
ed to  introduce  a  system  by  which  the  workmen  were 
to  be  paid  once  a  fortnight ;  but  very  soon  after  the 
operations  had  begun,  the  Frenchmen  requested  that 
the  pay  might  take  place  only  once  a  month. 

Mr.  Reid,  managing  director  of  the  line,  told  the 
House  of  Commons  Committee  on  Railway  Laborers 
that  a  French  laborer  is  a  much  more  independent  per- 
son than  an  Englishman,  and  much  more  respectable. 
He  stated,  in  support  of  his  opinion,  this  remarkable 
circumstance,  that  whereas  a  French  laborer  desired  to 
be  paid  only  once  a  month,  the  English  laborer  desired 
to  be  paid  every  Saturday  night,  and  by  the  following 
Wednesday  he  wanted  something  on  account  of  the 
week's  work.  "Nothing  could  be  a  greater  test,"  said 
Mr.  Reid,  "of  the  respectability  of  a  working-man  than 
being  able  to  go  without  his  pay  for  a  month."* 

AlthouQ-h  the  French  workman  has  nothinc:  like  the 
same  facilities  for  saving  as  the  English,  the  Journal 
des  Debats  alleges  that  he  saves  ten  times  as  much  as 
his  rival.     There  are  only  about  a  thousand  savings- 

*  Thomas  Brasspy,  M.r.,  on  "Work  nnd  Wages." 


CHAP.  XI.]    Provident  Hahits  of  Foreigners.  251 

banks  and  branches  established  in  France,  and  yet  two 
millions  of  persons  belonging  to  the  lower  ranks  last 
year  invested  in  them  about  twenty-eight  millions  ster- 
ling. But  the  Frenchman  of  the  city  prefers  invest- 
ing in  Government  Rentes  ;  and  the  Frenchman  of  the 
country  prefers  investing  in  land.  All,  however,  are 
thrifty,  saving,  and  frugal ;  because  they  are  educated 
in  economy  from  their  earliest  years. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

LIVING  BEYOND  THE  MEANS. 

**By  no  means  i-un  in  debt:  take  thine  own  measure. 
Who  can  not  live  on  twenty  pound  a  year, 
Can  not  on  forty :  he's  a  man  of  pleasure, 
A  kind  of  thing  that's  for  itself  too  dear." — George  Herbert. 

"But  what  will  Mrs.  Grundy  say?"— Old  Play. 

*' Yes  and  No  are,  for  good  or  evil,  the  Giants  of  Life." — Jerrold. 

"A  hundred  years  of  vexation  will  not  pay  a  farthing  of  debt." 
•^-From  the  French. 

"Respectability  is  all  very  well  for  folks  who  can  have  it  for  ready 
money ;  but  to  be  obliged  to  run  into  debt  for  it — it's  enough  to  break 
the  heart  of  an  angel." — Jerrold. 

EXTRAVAGANCE  is  the  pervading  sin  of  modern 
society.  It  is  not  confined  to  the  rich  and  mon- 
eyed classes,  but  extends  also  to  the  middle  and  work- 
ing classes. 

There  never  was  such  a  burning  desire  to  be  rich,  or 
to  seem  to  be  rich.  People  are  no  longer  satisfied  with 
the  earnings  of  honest  industry ;  but  they  must  aim  at 
becoming  suddenly  rich  —  by  speculation,  gambling, 
betting,  swindling,  or  cheating. 

General  extravagance  is  to  be  seen  everywhere.  It 
is  especially  the  characteristic  of  town  life.  You  see 
it  in  the  streets,  in  the  parks,  in  the  churches.  The 
extravagance  of  dress  is  only  one  of  its  signs.  There 
is  a  general  prodigality  in  social  display.  People  live 
in  a  style  beyond  their  means ;  and  the  results  are  ob- 
served in  commercial  failures,  in  lists  of  bankrupts,  and 
in  criminal  courts,  where  business  men  are  so  often  con- 
victed of  dishonesty  and  fraud. 


CHAP.  XII.]  Hypocrisy  and  Debt.  253 

Appearances  must  be  kept  up.  Men  must  seem  to 
be  rich.  Hypocrites  easily  can  impose  upon  those  who 
are  willing  to  be  convinced.  People  must  now  live 
in  a  certain  style,  inhabit  handsome  houses,  give  good 
dinners,  drink  fine  wines,  and  have  a  handsome  equi- 
page. Perhaps  they  are  only  able  to  accomplish  this 
by  overreaching  or  by  dishonesty.  Every  body  won- 
dered at  the  generosity  and  style  of  Redpath  and  Rob- 
son  ;  but  there  are  hundreds,  if  not  thousands,  of  Red- 
paths  and  Robsons  now. 

There  is  another  class  of  people,  not  fraudulent,  but 
extravagant,  though  perhaps  on  the  brink  of  becoming 
fraudulent.  They  live  up  to  their  means,  and  often 
beyond  tliem.  They  desire  to  be  considered  "  respect- 
able people."  They  live  according  to  the  pernicious 
adage, "  One  must  do  as  others  do."  They  do  not  con- 
sider whether  they  can  afford  to  live  up  to  or  beyond 
their  means ;  but  they  think  it  necessar}'-  to  secure  the 
*'  respect "  of  others.  In  doing  so,  they  usually  sacri- 
fice their  own  self-respect.  They  regard  their  dress, 
their  establishments,  their  manner  of  living,  and  their 
observance  of  fashion,  as  the  sole  tests  of  respectability 
and  rank.  They  make  an  appearance  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world,  though  it  may  be  entirely  hypocritical  and 
false. 

But  they  must  not  seem  poor !  They  must  hide  their 
poverty  by  every  effort.  They  spend  their  money 
before  it  is  earned — run  into  debt  at  the  grocer's,  the 
baker's,  the  milliner's,  and  the  butcher's.  They  must 
entertain  their  fashionable  "friends,"  at  the  expense  of 
the  shop-keepers.  And  yet,  when  misfortunes  overtake 
them,  and  when  the  debts  have  become  overwhelming, 
what  becomes  of  the  "friends?"  They  fly  away,  and 
shun  the  man  who  is  up  to  his  ears  in  debt ! 

Yet  poverty  is  more  than  half  disarmed  by  those 
who  have  the  moral  courage  to  say, "  I  can't  aflbrd  it." 


254  Conventionalism.  [chap.  XII. 

Fair-weather  friends  are  of  no  use  whatever,  except  as 
an  indication  of  the  depth  of  snobbery  to  which  human 
beings  can  descend.  What  is  "a  visiting  connection  ?" 
It  is  not  at  all  calculated  to  elevate  one  in  social  or 
even  in  business  life.  Success  mainly  depends  upon 
character,  and  the  general  esteem  in  Avhich  a  person  is 
lield ;  and  if  the  attempt  is  made  to  snatch  the  reward 
of  success  before  it  is  earned,  the  half-formed  footing 
may  at  once  give  way,  and  the  aspirant  will  fall,  unla- 
mented,  into  the  open-mouthed  dragon  of  debt. 

"Mrs.  Grundy,"  in  the  play, is  but  an  impersonation 
of  the  conventionalism  of  the  world.  Custom,  habit, 
fashion,  use,  and  wont,  are  all  represented  in  her.  She 
may  be  a  very  vulgar  and  commonplace  person,  but 
her  power  is  nevertheless  prodigious.  We  copy  and 
imitate  her  in  all  things.  We  are  pinned  to  her  apron- 
string.  We  are  obedient  at  her  bidding.  We  are  in- 
dolent and  complaisant,  and  fear  to  provoke  her  ill 
word.  "What  will  Mrs.  Grundy  say?"  quells  many  a 
noble  impulse,  hinders  many  a  self-denying  act. 

There  seems  to  be  a  general  though  unconscious  con- 
spiracy existing  against  each  other's  individuality  and 
manhood.  We  discourage  self-reliance,  and  demand 
conformity.  Each  must  see  w^itli  others'  eyes,  and 
think  through  others'  minds.  We  are  idolaters  of  cus- 
toms and  observances,  looking  behind,  not  forward  and 
upward.  Pinned  down  and  held  back  by  ignorance  and 
weakness,  we  are  afraid  of  standing  alone,  or  thinking 
and  acting  for  ourselves.  Conventionalism  rules  all. 
We  fear  stepping  out  into  the  free  air  of  independent 
thought  and  action.  We  refuse  to  plant  ourselves  upon 
our  instincts,  and  to  vindicate  our  spiritual  freedom. 
We  are  content  to  bear  others'  fruit,  not  our  own. 

In  private  aifairs  the  same  spirit  is  alike  deleterious. 
We  live  as  society  directs,  each  according  to  the  stand- 
ard of  our  class.     We  have  a  superstitious  reverence 


CHAP.  XII,]      Keeping  up  Appearances.  255 

for  custom.  We  dress  and  eat  and  live  in  conformity 
with  the  Grundy  law.  So  long  as  we  do  this,  we  are 
"  respectable,"  according  to  class  notions.  Thus  many 
rush  open-eyed  upon  misery,  for  no  better  excuse  than 
a  foolish  fear  of  "  the  world."  They  are  afraid  of 
''  what  others  will  say  of  them ;"  and,  in  nine  cases  out 
of  ten,  those  who  might  probably  raise  the  voice  of  cen- 
sure are  not  the  wise  or  the  far-seeing,  but  much  often- 
er^the  foolish,  the  vain,  and  the  short-sighted. 

Sir  William  Temple  has  said  that  "a  restlessness  in 
men's  minds  to  be  something  that  they  are  not,  and  to 
liave  something  that  they  have  not,  is  the  root  of  all 
immorality."  The  statement  is  strictly  correct.  It 
lias  been  attested  by  universal  experience. 

Keeping  up  appearances  is  one  of  the  greatest  social 
evils  of  the  age.  There  is  a  general  effort,  more  par- 
ticularly among  the  middle  and  upper  classes,  at  seem- 
ing to  be  something  that  they  are  not.  They  put  on 
appearances,  live  a  life  of  sham,  and  endeavor  to  look 
something  superior  to  what  they  really  are. 

"Respectability"  is  one  of  the  chief  aims.  Respect- 
ability, regarded  in  its  true  sense,  is  a  desirable  thing. 
To  be  respected,  on  right  grounds,  is  an  object  Avhich 
every  man  and  woman  is  justified  in  attaining.  But 
modern  respectability  consists  of  external  appearances. 
It  means  wearing  fine-  clothes,  dwelling  in  fine  houses, 
and  living  in  fine  style.  It  looks  to  the  outside  —  to 
sound,  sliow,  externals.  It  listens  to  the  chink  of  gold 
in  the  pocket.  Moral  worth  or  goodness  forms  no  part 
of  modern  respectability.  A  man  in  these  days  may 
be  perfectly  "  respectable,"  and  yet  altogether  despi- 
cable. 

This  false  and  demoralizing  habit  arises  from  the 
overweeninij  estimate  which  is  formed  of  two  thino-s, 
Avell  enough  in  their  place — rank  and  wealth.  Every 
body  struggles  to  rise  into  some  other  class  above  him. 


256  Exclusive  Circles.  [ciiAr.  xii. 

Tlie  spirit  of  caste  is  found  as  keenly  at  work  among 
the  humblest  as  among  the  highest  ranks.  At  Birming- 
ham there  was  a  club  of  workmen  with  tails  to  their 
coats,  and  another  without  tails  :  the  one  looked  down 
npon  the  other.  Cobbett,  so  felicitous  in  his  nick- 
names, called  his  political  opponent,  Mr.  Sadler,  "  a  lin- 
en-draper." But  the  linen-draper  also  has  plenty  of 
people  beneath  him.  The  linen-draper  looks  down  on 
the  huckster,  the  huckster  on  the  mechanic,  and  the 
mechanic  on  the  day-laborer.  The  flunky  who  exhibits 
his  calves  behind  a  baron,  holds  his  head  considerably 
higher  than  the  flunky  who  serves  a  brewer. 

It  matters  not  at  what  class  you  begin,  or  however 
low  in  the  social  scale,  you  will  find  that  every  man 
has  somebody  beneath  him.  Among  the  middling 
ranks  this  sort  of  exclusiveness  is  very  marked.  Each 
circle  would  think  it  a  degradation  to  mix  on  familiar 
terms  with  the  members  of  the  circle  beneath  it.  In 
small  towns  and  villages,  you  will  find  distinct  coteries 
holding  aloof  from  each  other,  perhaps  despising  each 
other,  and  very  often  pelting  each  other  with  hard 
words.  The  cathedral  towns,  generally,  have  at  least 
six  of  such  distinct  classes,  ranking  one  ben'eath  the 
other. 

And  while  each  has  his  or  her  own  exclusive  circle, 
which  all  of  supposed  inferior  rank  are  precluded  from 
entering,  they  are  at  the  same  time  struggling  to  pass 
over  the  line  of  social  demarkation  which  has  been 
drawn  by  those  above  them.  They  are  eager  to  over- 
leap it,  and  thus  gain  admission  into  a  circle  still  more 
exclusive  than  their  own. 

There  is  also  a  desperate  scramble  for  front  places, 
and  many  are  the  mean  shifts  employed  to  gain  them. 
We  must  possess  the  homage  of  society !  And  for  this 
purpose  we  must  be  rich,  or  at  least  seem  to  be  so. 
Hence  the  struggles  after  style;   the  efibrts  made  to 


CHAP.  XII,]       Keeping  up  Appearances.  257 

put  on  the  appearances  of  wealth ;  the  dash,  the  glit- 
ter, and  the  show  of  middle  and  upper  class  life ;  and 
hence,  too,  the  motley  train  of  palled  and  vitiated  tastes, 
of  shrunken  hearts  and  stunted  intellects,  of  folly,  fri- 
volity, and  madness. 

One  of  the  most  demoralizing  practices  of  modern 
refinement  is  the  "  large-party  "  system.  People  cram 
their  houses  with  respectable  mobs,  thus  conforming 
to  a  ridiculous  custom.  Rousseau,  with  all  his  aberra- 
tions of  mind,  said,  "  I  had  rather  have  my  house  too 
small  for  a  day  than  too  large  for  a  twelvemonth." 
Fashion  exactly  reverses  the  maxim,  and  domestic  mis- 
chief is  often  begun  with  a  large  dwelling  and  suita- 
ble accommodations.  The  misfortune  consists  in  this, 
that  we  never  look  below  our  level  for  an  example,  but 
always  above  it. 

It  is  not  so  much,  however,  in  the  mere  appearances 
kept  up,  as  in  the  means  taken  to  keep  them  up,  that 
the  fruitful  cause  of  immorality  is  to  be  found.  A  man 
having  assumed  a  class  status,  runs  all  risks  to  keep  it 
up.  It  is  thought  to  be  a  descent  in  the  world  to 
abridge  one's  self  of  a  superfluity.  The  seeming  rich 
man,  who  drives  his  close  carriage  and  drinks  Cham- 
pagne, will  not  tolerate  a  descent  to  a  gig  and  plain 
beier ;  and  the  respectable  man,  who  keeps  his  gig, 
would  think  it  a  degradation  to  have  to  travel  afoot 
or  in  a  'bus  between  his  country-house  and  his  town- 
oflice.  They  will  descend  to  immorality  rather  than 
descend  in  apparent  rank ;  they  will  yield  to  dishon- 
esty rather  than  yield  up  the  mock  applause  and  hol- 
low respect  of  that  big  fool,  "  the  world." 

Every  body  can  call  to  mind  hundreds  of  cases  of 
men — "respectable  men"  —  who,  from  one  extrava- 
gance have  gone  on  to  another,  wantonly  squander- 
ing wealth  which  was  not  theirs,  in  order  to  keep  up 
a  worldly  reputation,  and  cut  a  figure  before  their  ad- 


258  Women  and  Exclusiveness.      [chap.  xii. 

miring  fellows ;  all  ending  in  a  sudden  smash,  a  fright- 
ful downfiill,  an  utter  bankruptcy,  to  the  ruin,  perhaps, 
of  thousands.  They  have  finished  up  with  paying  a 
respectable  dividend  of  sixpence  in  the  pound !  In- 
deed, it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  five-sixths  of  the 
fraud  and  swindlino-  that  dissfrace  commercial  transac- 

^D  CD 

tions  have  had  their  origin  in  the  diseased  morality  of 
"  keeping  up  appearances." 

To  be  "respectable,"  in  the  false  sense  of  the  word, 
what  is  not  sacrificed  ?  Peace,  honesty,  truth,  virtue 
— all  to  keep  up  appearances.  We  must  cheat,  and 
scrub,  and  deceive,  and  defraud,  that  "the  world  "  may 
not  see  behind  our  mask !  We  must  torment  and  en- 
slave ourselves,  because  we  must  extort  "  the  world's  " 
applause,  or  at  least  obtain  "the  world's"  good  oj)in- 
ion  ! 

How  often  is  suicide  traceable  to  this  false  senti- 
ment !  Vain  men  will  give  up  their  lives  rather  than 
their  class  notions  of  respectability.  They  will  cut 
the  thread  of  existence  rather  than  cut  fashionable 
life.  Very  few  suicides  are  committed  from  real  want. 
"We  never  hear,"  says  Joel  Barlow,  "of  a  man  com- 
mitting suicide  for  want  of  a  loaf  of  bread,  but  it  is 
often  done  for  want  of  a  coach." 

Of  this  mean  and  miserable  spirit  of  class  and  caste 
women  are  the  especial  victims.  They  are  generally 
brought  up  with  false  notions  of  life,  and  are  taught 
to  estimate  men  and  things  rather  by  their  external 
appearances  than  by  their  intrinsic  worth.  Their  edu- 
cation is  conducted  mainly  Avith  the  view  of  pleasing 
and  attracting  the  admiration  of  others,  rather  than  of 
improving  and  developing  their  qualities  of  mind  and 
lieart.  Tiiey  are  imbued  with  notions  of  exclusiveness, 
fashion,  and  gentility.  A  respectable  position  in  soci- 
ety is  held  up  to  them  as  the  mark  to  be  aimed  at. 
To  be  criminal  or  vicious  is  virtually  represented  to 


CHAP.  XII.]      Wome?i  and  Extravagance.  259 

them  as  far  less  horrible  than  to  be  "  vulgar."  Im- 
mured within  the  Bastile  of  exclusivism,  woman  is  held 
captive  to  all  the  paltry  shifts  and  expediencies  of  con- 
vention, fashion,  gentility,  and  so  forth.  The  genuine 
benevolence  of  her  nature  is  perverted ;  her  heart  be- 
comes contracted;  and  the  very  highest  sources  of 
happiness — those  which  consist  in  a  kindly  sympathy 
with  humanity  in  all  ranks  of  life — are  as  a  well  shut 
u])  and  a  fountain  sealed. 

Is  it  not  a  fact  that  in  what  is  called  "fashionable 
society,"  a  fine  outside  appearance  is  regarded  almost 
in  the  light  of  a  virtue  ? — that  to  be  rich,  or  to  have 
the  appearance  of  riches,  is  esteemed  as  a  merit  of  a 
high  order;  whereas,  to  be  poor,  or  to  seem  so,  ranks 
as  something  like  an  unpardonable  offense  ?  N^ay,  such 
is  the  heartlessness  of  this  class  sj^irit,  that  a  young 
woman  belonging  to  the  better  class  who,  by  misfort- 
une or  family  reverses,  has  been  tlirown  upon  her  own 
resources,  and  who  endeavors  by  her  own  honest  hands 
to  earn  her  honest  bread,  immediately  loses  caste,  and 
is  virtually  expelled  from  "  respectable  "  society.  The 
resolution  to  be  independent  —  the  most  invigorating 
resolution  which  can  take  possession  of  the  human 
mind — is  scouted  in  such  circles  as  a  degrading  thing ; 
and  those  who  have  been  brought  up  within  the  in- 
fluence of  fashion  will  submit  to  the  most  severe  priva- 
tions rather  than  submit  to  the  loss  of  their  class  and 
caste  respectability ! 

Thus  brought  up,  it  is  no  wonder  that  woman  has 
been  the  copartner  with  man  in  upholding  the  general 
extravagance  of  the  ago.  There  never  was  such  a 
rage  for  dress  and  fineiy  among  Englishwomen  as 
there  is  now.  It  rivals  the  corrupt  and  debauched  age 
of  Louis  XV.  of  France.  A  delirium  of  fashion  exists. 
Women  are  ranked  by  what  they  wear,  not  by  what 
they  are.     Extravagance  of  dress,  and  almost  indecency 


260  Running  into  Debt.  [chap.  xii. 

of  dress,  has  tiikeii  the  place  of  simple  womanly  beauty. 
Wordsworth  once  described  the  "  perfect  woman  nobly 
planned."  Where  will  you  find  the  perfect  woman 
now  ?  Not  in  the  party-colored,  overdressed  creature 
— the  thing  of  shreds  and  j^atches  —  with  false  hair, 
false  color,  false  eyebrows,  false  every  thing.  Some 
of  nature's  journeymen  have  made  them,  and  not  made 
them  well,  they  imitate  humanity  so  abominably. 

The  evil  does  not  stop  with  the  moneyed  classes.  It 
descends  to  those  who  have  nothing  but  their  salary 
to  live  upon.  It  descends  to  the  wives  of  clerks  and 
shop-men.  They,  too,  dress  for  respectability.  They 
live  beyond  their  means.  They  must  live  in  gimcrack 
suburban  villas,  and  "  give  parties."  They  must  see 
what  is  going  on  at  the  theatres.  Every  farthing  is 
spent  so  soon  as  earned — sometimes  before.  The  hus- 
band does  not  insure  his  life,  and  the  wife  runs  into 
debt.  If  the  man  died  to-morrow,  he  would  leave  his 
wife  and  children  paupers.  The  money  he  ought  to 
have  saved  during  his  life  of  toil  is  spent  on  "  respect- 
ability ;"  and  if  he  leaves  a  few  pounds  behind  him, 
they  are  usually  spent  in  giving  the  thriftless  husband 
a  respectable  funeral. 

"Is  that  dress  paid  for?"  asked  a  husband.  *'No." 
"Then  you  are  allowing  yourself  to  be  clothed  at  an- 
other man's  expense  !"  No  woman  is  justified  in  run- 
ning into  debt  for  a  dress  without  her  husband's  knowl- 
edge and  consent.  If  she  do  so,  she  is  clothing  herself 
at  the  expense  of  the  draper.  This  is  one  of  the  things 
that  worry  a  man  who  is  trying  to  keep  his  head  above 
water ;  and  it  is  often  sufficient  to  turn  his  heart 
against  his  wife  and  her  extravagances.  It  is  in  this 
way  that  incomes  are  muddled  away,  and  that  life  is 
rendered  the  scene  of  bitterness  and  discontent.  This 
is  especially  the  case  when  both  husband  and  wife  are 
alike  spendthrifts. 


CHAP.  XII.]    The  Temptation  of  Shop-keepers.  261 

By  running  into  debt  yourself,  or  by  your  allowino- 
your  wife  to  run  into  debt,  you  give  another  person 
power  over  your  liberty.  You  can  not  venture  to 
look  your  creditor  in  the  face.  A  double  knock  at  the 
door  frightens  you ;  the  postman  may  be  delivering  a 
lawyer's  letter  demanding  the  amount  you  owe.  You 
are  unable  to  pay  it,  and  make  a  sneaking  excuse. 
You  invent  some  pretense  for  not  paying.  At  length 
you  are  driven  to  downright  lying;  for  "lying  rides 
on  debt's  back." 

What  madness  it  is  to  run  into  debt  for  superfluities  ! 
AVe  buy  fine  articles — finer  than  we  can  pay  for.  We 
are  oflTered  six  months' — twelve  months'  credit !  It  is 
the  shop-keeper's  temptation;  and  we  fall  before  it. 
We  are  too  spiritless  to  live  upon  our  own  earnings; 
but  must  meanwhile  live  upon  others'.  The  Romans 
recjarded  their  servants  as  their  enemies.  One  miirht 
almost  regard  modern  shop-keepers  in  the  same  light. 
By  giving  credit,  by  pressing  women  to  buy  fine 
clothes,  they  place  the  strongest  temptation  before 
them.  They  inveigle  the  Avives  of  men  who  are  dis- 
posed to  be  honest  into  debt,  and  afterward  send  in 
untruthful  bills.  They  charge  heavier  prices,  and  their 
customers  pay  them — sometimes  doubly  pay  them ;  for 
it  is  impossible  to  keep  a  proper  check  upon  long-due 
accounts. 

Professor  Newman's  advice  is  worthy  of  being  fol- 
lowed. "Heartily  do  I  wish,"  he  says,  "that  shop 
debts  were  j^ronounced  after  a  certain  day  irrecovera- 
ble at  law.  The  eftect  would  be  that  no  one  would  be 
able  to  ask  credit  at  a  shop  except  where  he  was  well 
known,  and  for  trifling  sums.  All  prices  would  sink 
to  the  scale  of  cash  prices.  The  dishonorable  system 
of  fashionable  debtors,  who  always  pay  too  late,  if  at 
all,  and  cast  their  deficiencies  on  other  customers  in 
the  form  of  increased  charges,  would  be  at  once  anni- 


262  Temptations  to  Crime.  [chap.  xii. 

liilated.  Shop-keepers  would  be  rid  of  a  great  deal  of 
care,  which  ruins  the  happiness  of  thousands."* 

A  perfect  knowledge  of  human  nature  is  in  the 
prayer,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation."  No  man  and 
no  woman  ever  resists  temptation  after  it  has  begun 
to  be  temptation.  It  is  in  the  outworks  of  the  habits 
that  the  defense  must  lie.  The  woman  who  hesitates 
to  incur  a  debt  which  she  ought  not  to  incur  is  lost. 
The  clerk  or  apprentice  who  gloats  over  his  master's 
gold,  sooner  or  later  appropriates  it.  He  does  so 
Avhen  he  has  got  over  the  habitual  feeling  which  made 
any  approach  to  it  an  impossibility.  Thus  the  habits 
which  insinuate  themselves  into  the  thousand  inconsid- 
erable acts  of  life  constitute  a  very  large  part  of  man's 
moral  conduct. 

This  running  ii>to  debt  is  a  great  cause  of  dishon- 
esty. It  does  not  matter  what  the  debt  is,  whether  it 
be  for  bets  unsettled,  for  losses  by  cards,  for  milliners' 
or  drapers'  bills  unpaid.  Men  wlio  have  been  well 
educated,  well  trained,  and  put  in  the  way  of  earning 
money  honestly,  are  often  run  away  with  by  extrava- 
gancies, by  keeping  up  appearances,  by  betting,  by 
speculation  and  gambling,  and  by  the  society  of  the 
dissolute  of  both  sexes. 

The  writer  of  this  book  has  had  considerable  ex- 
perience of  the  manner  in  which  young  men  have  been 
led  from  the  way  of  well-doing  into  that  of  vice  and 
criminality.  On  one  occasion  his  name  was  forged  by 
a  clerk,  to  enable  him  to  obtain  a  sum  of  money  to 
pay  the  debts  incurred  by  him  at  a  public-house.  The 
criminal  was  originally  a  young  man  of  good  educa- 
tion, of  reasonable  ability,  well  connected,  and  married 
to  a  respectable  young  lady.  But  all  his  relatives  and 
friends  were  forgotten — wife  and  child  and  all — in  his 

*  "Lectures  on  Political  Economy," p.  255. 


CHAP.  XII.]       How  Crime  is  Committed.  263 

love  for  drink  and  card-playing.  He  was  condemned, 
and  sentenced  to  several  years'  imprisonment. 

In  another  case,  the  defaulter  was  the  son  of  a  dis- 
senting minister.  He  stole  some  valuable  documents, 
which  he  converted  into  money.  He  escaped,  and  was 
tracked.  He  had  given  out  that  he  was  going  to 
Australia,  by  Southampton.  The  Peninsular  and  Ori- 
ental steamer  was  searched,  but  no  person  answering 
to  his  description  was  discovered.  Some  time  passed, 
when  one  of  the  Bank-of-England  notes  which  he  had 
carried  away  with  him  was  returned  to  the  bank  from 
Dublin.  A  detective  was  put  upon  his  track;  he  was 
found  in  the  lowest  company,  brought  back  to  Lon- 
don, tried,  and  sentenced  to  twelve  months'  imprison- 
ment. 

In  another  case,  tlie  criminal  occupied  a  higli  posi- 
tion in  a  railway  company — so  high  that  he  was  j^ro- 
moted  from  it  to  be  manager  of  the  Royal  Swedish 
Railway.  He  was  one  of  the  too  numerous  persons 
who  are  engaged  in  keeping  up  appearances,  irre- 
spective of  honesty,  morality,  or  virtue.  He  got  deep- 
ly into  debt,  as  most  of  such  people  do ;  and  then  he 
became  dishonest.  He  became  the  associate  of  pro- 
fessional thieves.  He  abstracted  a  key  from  the  office 
of  which  he  was  in  charge,  and  handed  it  to  a  well- 
known  thief.  This  w^as  the  key  of  the  strong-box  in 
which  gold  and  silver  were  conveyed  by  railway  from 
London  to  Paris.  A  cast  of  the  key  was  taken  in  wax, 
and  it  was  copied  in  iron.  It  was  by  means  of  this 
key  that  "the  Great  Gold  Robbery"  was  effected. 
After  some  time  the  thieves  were  apprehended,  and 
the  person  wlio  had  stolen  the  key — the  keeper-up  of 
appearances,  then  manager  of  the  Royal  Swedish  Rail- 
way—  was  apprehended,  convicted,  and  sentenced  by 
Baron  Martin  to  transportation  for  life. 

The  Rev.  John  Davis,  the  late  chaplain  of  Kewgate, 


264  Love  of  Dress.  [chap.  xii. 

published  the  following  among  other  accounts  of  the 
causes  of  crime  among  the  convicted  young  men  who 
came  under  his  notice : 

"I  knew  a  youth,  the  child  of  an  officer  in  the  navy, 
who  had  served  his  country  w^ith  distinction,  but  whose 
premature  death  rendered  his  widow  thankful  to  re- 
ceive an  official  appointment  for  her  delicate  boy  in  a 
Government  office.  His  income  from  the  office  w^as 
o-iven  faithfully  to  his  mother ;  and  it  was  a  pleasure 
and  a  pride  to  him  to  gladden  her  heart  by  the  thought 
that  he  was  helping  her.  She  had  other  children — two 
little  girls,  just  rising  from  the  cradle  to  womanhood. 
Her  scanty  pension  and  his  salary  made  every  one  hap- 
py. But  over  this  youth  came  a  love  of  dress.  He 
had  not  strength  of  mind  to  see  how  much  more  truly 
beautiful  a  pure  mind  is  than  a  finely  decorated  exte- 
rior. He  took  pleasure  in  helping  his  mother  and  sis- 
ters, but  did  not  take  greater  pleasure  in  thinking  that 
to  do  this  kindness  to  them  he  must  be  contented  for  a 
time  to  dress  a  little  w^orse  than  his  fellow-clerks ;  his 
clothes  might  appear  a  little  w^orn,  but  they  w^ere  like 
the  spot  on  the  dress  of  a  soldier  arising  from  the  dis- 
charge of  duty;  they  w^ere  no  marks  of  undue  careless- 
ness ;  necessity  had  wrought  them;  and  wdiile  they  in- 
dicated necessity,  they  marked  also  the  path  of  hon- 
or, and  without  such  spots  duty  must  have  been  neg- 
lected. But  this  youth  did  not  think  of  such  great 
thoughts  as  these.  He  felt  ashamed  at  his  threadbare 
but  clean  coat.     The  smart,  new-shining  dress  of  other 

clerks  mortified  him He  wanted  to  appear  finer. 

In  an  evil  hour  he  ordered  a  suit  of  clothes  from  a  fasli- 
ionable  tailor.  His  situation  and  connections  procured 
him  a  short  credit.  But  tradesmen  must  be  paid,  and 
he  was  again  and  again  importuned  to  defray  his  debt. 
To  relieve  himself  of  his  creditor  he  stole  a  letter  con- 
taining a  ten-pound  note.     His  tailor  was  paid,  but  the 


CHAP.  XII.]  ^'Gentlemen.''  265 

injured  party  knew  the  number  of  the  note.  It  was 
traced  to  the  tailor,  by  him  to  the  thief,  with  the  means 
and  opportunity  of  stealing  it,  and  in  a  few  days  he 
was  transported.  His  handsome  dress  was  exchanged 
for  the  dress  of  a  convict.  Better  by  far  would  it  have 
been  for  him  to  have  worn  his  poorer  garb,  with  the 
marks  of  honest  labor  upon  it.  lie  formed  only  anoth- 
er example  of  the  intense  folly  of  love  of  dress,  which 
exists  quite  as  much  among  foolish  young  men  as  among 
foolish  young  women." 

When  Sir  Charles  ISTapier  left  India,  he  issued  an  or- 
der to  the  army,  in  which  he  reproved  the  officers  for 
contracting  debts  without  the  prospect  of  paying  them. 
The  commander-in-chief  found  that  he  was  subject  to 
constant  comjDlaints  against  officers  for  non-payment 
of  debts;  and  in  some  cases  he  found  that  the  ruin  of 
deserving  and  industrious  tradesmen  had  been  conse- 
quent on  that  cause.  This  growing  vice  he  severely 
reprimanded,  as  being  derogatory  to  the  character  of 
the  gentleman,  as  a  degrading  thing,  as  entitling  those 
who  practiced  it  to  "group  with  the  infamous,  with 
those  who  are  cheats,  and  whose  society  is  contamina- 
tion." He  strongly  urged  them  to  stick  to  their  duties, 
to  reprobate  extravagance  and  expense  of  all  sorts,  and 
to  practice  rigid  economy ;  for  "  to  drink  unpaid  -  for 
Champagne  and  unpaid-for  beer,  and  to  ride  unjjaid-for 
horses,  is  to  be  a  cheat,  and  not  a  gentleman." 

The  extravagance  of  these  young  "gentlemen"  in 
India  is,  in  too  many  respects,  but  a  counterpart  of 
the  extravagance  of  our  young  "gentlemen"  at  home. 
The  revelations  of  extravagances  at  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge point  to  the  school  in  which  they  have  learned 
their  manners.  Many  worthy  parents  have  been  ruin- 
ed by  the  sons  whom  they  had  sent  thither  to  be  made 
scholars  of;  but  who  have  learned  only  to  be  "gentle- 
men" in  the  popular  acceptation  of  the  word.     To  be 

12 


266  Reckless  Expenditure.  [chap.  xil. 

a  "  gentleman  "  nowadays  is  to  be  a  gambler,  a  horse- 
racer,  a  card-player,  a  dancer,  a  hunter,  a  roue — or  all 
combined.  The  "gentleman"  lives  fast,  spends  fast, 
drinks  fast,  dies  fast.  The  old  style  of  gentleman  has 
degenerated  into  a  "gent"  and  a  "fast"  man.  "Gen- 
tleman" has  become  disreputable  ;  and  when  it  is  now 
employed,  it  oftener  signifies  an  idle  spendthrift  than 
an  accomplished,  virtuous,  laborious  man. 

Young  men  are  growing  quite  shameless  about  be- 
ing in  debt ;  and  the  immorality  extends  throughout 
society.  Tastes  are  becoming  more  extravagant  and 
luxurious,  without  the  corresponding  increase  of  means 
to  enable  them  to  be  gratified.  But  they  are  gratified, 
nevertheless ;  and  debts  are  incurred,  which  afterward 
weio'h  like  a  millstone  round  the  neck.  Extravatjant 
habits,  once  formed  and  fostered,  are  very  difficult  to 
give  up.  The  existing  recklessness  of  running  into 
debt  without  the  prospect,  often  without  even  the  in- 
tention, of  paying  the  debt,  saps  the  public  morals, 
and  spreads  misery  throughout  the  middle  and  upper 
classes  of  society.  The  tone  of  morality  has  sunk,  and 
it  will  be  long  before  it  is  fairly  recovered  again. 

In  the  mean  time,  those  who  can  ought  to  set  their 
faces  against  all  expenditure  where  there  are  not  suffi- 
cient means  to  justify  it.  The  safest  plan  is,  to  run  up 
no  bills,  and  never  to  get  into  debt ;  and  the  next  is,  if 
one  does  get  into  debt,  to  get  out  of  it  again  as  quick- 
ly as  possible.  A  man  in  debt  is  not  his  own  master: 
he  is  at  the  mercy  of  the  tradesmen  he  employs.  He 
is  the  butt  of  lawyers,  the  by-word  of  creditors,  the 
scandal  of  neighbors;  he  is  a  slave  in  his  own  house; 
his  moral  character  becomes  degraded  and  defiled  ; 
and  even  his  own  household  and  family  regard  him 
with  pity  akin  to  contempt. 

Montaigne  said,  "I  always  feel  a  pleasure  in  ^^aying 
my  debts,  because  I  discharge  my  shoulders  of  a  weari- 


CHAP.  XII.]        Knowledge  of  Arithmetic.  267 

some  load  and  of  an  image  of  slavery."  Johnson  might 
well  call  Economy  the  mother  of  Liberty.  No  man  can 
be  free  who  is  in  debt.  The  inevitable  effect  of  debt 
is  not  only  to  injure  personal  independence,  but,  in  the 
long-run,  to  inflict  moral  degradation.  The  debtor  is 
exposed  to  constant  humiliations.  Men  of  honorable 
principles  must  be  disgusted  by  borrowing  money 
from  persons  to  whom  they  can  not  pay  it  back ;  dis- 
gusted with  drinking  wine,  wearing  clothes,  and  keep- 
ing up  appearances,  with  other  people's  money.  The 
Earl  of  Dorset,  like  many  other  young  nobles,  became 
involved  in  debt,  and  borrowed  money  npon  his  prop- 
erty. He  was  cured  of  his  prodigality  by  the  imperti- 
nence of  a  city  alderman,  who  haunted  his  antecham- 
ber for  the  purpose  of  dunning  him  for  his  debt.  From 
that  day  the  earl  determined  to  economize,  to  keep  en- 
tirely out  of  every  body's  debt,  and  he  kept  his  word. 

Let  every  man  have  the  fortitude  to  look  his  affairs 
in  the  face — to  keep  an  account  of  his  items  of  income 
and  debts,  no  matter  how  long  or  black  tlie  list  may 
be.  He  must  know  how  he  stands  from  day  to  day, 
to  be  able  to  look  the  world  fairly  in  the  face.  Let 
him  also  inform  his  wife,  if  he  has  one,  how  he  stands 
with  the  world.  If  his  wife  be  a  prudent  woman,  she 
will  help  him  to  economize  his  expenditure,  and  enable 
him  to  live  honorably  and  honestly.  No  good  wife 
will  ever  consent  to  wear  clothes  and  give  dinners  that 
belong,  not  to  her,  but  to  her  shop-keeper. 

Tlie  knowledge  of  arithmetic  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  those  who  would  live  within  their  means.  Women 
are  especially  ignorant  of  arithmetic ;  they  are  scarce- 
ly taught  the  simplest  elements,  for  female  teachers 
think  tlie  information  useless.  They  prefer  to  teach 
languages,  music,  deportment,  the  use  of  the  globes. 
All  these  may  be  important,  but  the  first  four  rules  of 
arithmetic  are  better  than  all.     How  can  they  com- 


268  Marriage.  [chap.  xii. 

pare  their  expenditure  with  tlicir  receipts,  witlioiit  the 
knowledge  of  addition  and  subtraction  ?  How  can 
they  know  precisely  what  to  spend  in  rent,  or  clothing, 
or  food,  or  for  service,  unless  they  know  the  value  of 
figures?  How  can  they  check  the  accounts  of  their 
tradesmen  or  their  servants  ?  This  want  of  knowledge 
of  arithmetic  is  the  cause,  not  only  of  great  waste,  but 
of  great  misery.  Many  a  family  of  good  position  has 
fallen  into  destitution  merely  because  of  its  ignorance 
of  this  branch  of  knowledge. 

Young  people  often  rush  into  marriage  without  re- 
flection. A  young  man  meets  a  pretty  face  in  a  ball- 
room, likes  it,  dances  with  it,  flirts  with  it,  and  goes 
home  to  dream  about  it.  At  length  he. falls  in  love 
with  it,  courts  it,  marries  it,  and  then  he  takes  the 
pretty  face  home,  and  begins  to  know  something  more 
about  it.  All  has  as  yet  been  "very  jolly."  The  face 
has  hitherto  been  cliarming,  graceful,  artless,  and 
beautiful.  It  has  now  to  enter  upon  another  sphere 
of  life.  It  has  to  be  seen  much  closer;  it  has  to  be 
seen  daily ;  and  it  has  to  begin  housekeeping. 

Most  newly  married  people  require  some  time  to 
settle  quietly  down  together.  Even  those  whose 
married  life  has  been  the  happiest  arrive  at  peace  and 
repose  through  a  period  of  little  struggles  and  bewil- 
derments. The  husband  does  not  all  at  once  find  his 
place,  nor  the  wife  hers.  One  of  the  very  happiest 
women  we  know  has  told  us  that  the  first  year  of  her 
married  life  was  the  most  uncomfortable  of  all.  She 
had  so  much  to  learn — was  so  fearful  of  doinsr  wronor 
— and  had  not  yet  found  her  proper  position.     But,  | 

feeling  their  way,  kind  and  loving  natures  will  have 
no  difiiculty  in  at  last  settling  down  comfortably  and 
peacefully  together. 

It  was  not  so  with  the  supposed  young  man  and  his 
pretty  "face."    Both  entered  upon  their  new  life  with- 


CHAP,  xil]  S[^PPy  Tempers,  269 

out  thinking,  or  perhaps  with  exaggerated  expecta- 
tions of  its  unalloyed  happiness.  They  could  not 
make  allowances  for  lovers  subsiding  into  husband  and 
wife ;  nor  were  they  prepared  for  the  little  ruffles  and 
frettings  of  individual  temper;  and  both  felt  disap- 
pointed. There  was  a  relaxation  of  the  little  atten- 
tions which  are  so  novel  and  charming  to  lovers.  Then 
the  pretty  face,  when  neglected,  found  relief  in  tears. 
There  is  nothing  of  which  men  tire  sooner,  especially 
when  the  tears  are  about  trifles.  Tears  do  not  in  such 
cases  cause  sympathy,  but  breed  repulsion.  They  oc- 
casion sourness,  both  on  the  one  side  and  the  other. 
Tears  are  dangerous  weapons  to  play  with.  Were 
women  to  try  kindness  and  cheerfulness  instead,  liow 
infinitely  happier  would  they  be  !  Many  are  the  lives 
that  are  made  miserable  by  an  indulgence  in  fretting 
and  carking,  until  the  character  is  indelibly  stamped, 
and  the  rational  enjoyment  of  life  becomes  next  to  a 
moral  impossibility. 

Mental  qualities  arc  certainly  admirable  gifts  in 
domestic  life.  But  though  they  may  dazzle  and  de- 
light, they  will  not  excite  love  and  affection  to  any 
thing  like  the  same  extent  as  a  warm  and  happy  heart. 
They  do  not  wear  half  so  well,  and  do  not  please  half 
so  much.  And  yet  liow  little  pains  are  taken  to  culti- 
vate the  beautiful  quality  of  good  temper  and  happy 
disposition!  And  how  often  is  life,  wliich  otherwise 
miglit  have  been  blessed,  imbittered  and  soured  by 
the  encouragement  of  peevish  and  fretful  habits,  so 
totally  destructive  of  every  thing  like  social  and  do- 
mestic comfort !  IIow  often  have  we  seen  both  men 
and  women  set  themselves  round  about  as  if  with 
bristles,  so  that  no  one  dared  to  approach  them  with- 
out the  fear  of  being  pricked !  For  want  of  a  little 
occasional  command  over  one's  temper,  an  amount  of 
misery  is   occasioned  in   society   which    is   positively 


270  Responsibilities  of  Marriage.      [CHAP.  xu. 

fi'ightful.  Thus  is  enjoyment  turned  into  bitterness, 
and  life  becomes  like  a  journey  barefooted,  among 
prickles,  and  thorns,  and  briers. 

In  the  instance  Ave  have  cited,  the  pretty  face  soon 
became  forgotten.  But  as  the  young  man  had  merely 
bargained  for  the  "  face  " — as  it  was  that  to  which  he 
had  paid  his  attentions ;  that  which  he  had  vowed  to 
love,  honor,  and  protect — when  it  ceased  to  be  pretty, 
he  beiran  to  find  out  that  he  had  made  a  mistake.  And 
if  the  home  be  not  made  attractive — if  the  newly  mar- 
ried man  finds  that  it  is  only  an  indifferent  boarding- 
house — he  will  gradually  absent  himself  from  it.  He 
will  stay  out  in  the  evenings,  and  console  himself  with 
cigars,  cards,  politics,  the  theatre,  the  drinking  -  club ; 
and  the  poor  pretty  face  will  then  become  more  and 
more  disconsolate,  hopeless,  and  miserable. 

Perhaps  children  grow  up ;  but  neither  husband  nor 
wife  know  much  about  training  them,  or  keeping  them 
healthy.  They  are  regarded  as  toys  when  babies,  dolls 
when  boys  and  girls,  drudges  when  young  men  and 
women.  There  is  scarcely  a  quiet,  happy,  hearty  hour 
spent  during  the  life  of  such  a  luckless  couple.  Where 
there  is  no  comfort  at  home,  there  is  only  a  succession 
of  petty  miseries  to  endure.  Wliere  there  is  no  cheer- 
fulness— no  disposition  to  accommodate,  to  oblige,  to 
sympathize  with  one  another — affection  gradually  sub- 
sides on  both  sides. 

It  is  said  that  "  when  poverty  comes  in  at  the  door, 
love  flies  out  at  the  window."  But  it  is  not  from  poor 
men's  houses  only  that  love  flies.  It  flies  quite  as  oft- 
en from  the  homes  of  the  rich,  where  there  is  a  want 
of  loving  and  cheerful  hearts.  This  little  home  might 
have  been  snug  enough ;  with  no  appearance  of  want 
about  it ;  rooms  well  furnished  ;  cleanliness  pervading 
it;  the  table  well  supplied;  the  fire  burning  brightly; 
and  yet  without  cheerfulness.     Tliere  wanted  the  hap- 


CHAP.  XII.]        Marriage  not  a  Lottery.  271 

py  faces,  radiant  witli  contentment -and  good-humor. 
Physical  comfort,  after  all,  forms  but  a  small  part  of 
the  blessings  of  a  happy  home.  As  in  all  other  con- 
cerns of  life,  it  is  the  moral  state  which  determines  the 
weal  or  woe  of  the  human  condition. 

Most  young  men  think  very  little  of  what  has  to  fol- 
low courtship  and  marriage.  They  think  little  of  tlie 
seriousness  of  the  step.  They  forget  that  when  the 
pledge  has  once  been  given,  there  is  no  turning  back. 
The  knot  can  not  be  untied.  If  a  thoughtless  mistake 
has  been  made,  the  inevitable  results  will  nevertheless 
follow.  The  maxim  is  current,  that  "marriage  is  a 
lottery."  It  may  be  so,  if  we  abjure  the  teachings  of 
prudence;  if  we  refuse  to  examine,  inquire,  and  think; 
if  we  are  content  to  choose  a  husband  or  a  wife 
with  less  reflection  than  we  bestow  upon  the  hiring 
of  a  servant,  whom  we  can  discharge  any  day ;  if  we 
merely  regard  attractions  of  face,  of  form,  or  of  purse, 
and  give  way  to  temporary  impulse  or  to  greedy  ava- 
rice— then,  in  such  cases,  marriage  does  resemble  a  lot- 
tery, in  which  you  ma}/  draw  a  prize,  thougli  there  are 
a  hundred  chances  to  one  that  you  will  only  draw  a 
blank. 

But  we  deny  that  marriage  has  any  necessary  re- 
semblance to  a  lottery.  AVhen  girls  are  taught  wisely 
how  to  love,  and  what  qualities  to  esteem  in  a  compan- 
ion for  life,  instead  of  being  left  to  gather  their  stock 
of  information  on  the  subject  from  the  fictitious  and 
generally  false  personations  given  to  tlieni  in  novels ; 
and  when  young  men  accustom  themselves  to  think  of 
the  virtues,  graces,  and  solid  acquirements  requisite  in 
a  wife,  with  whom  they  are  to  spend  tlieir  days,  and 
on  whose  temper  and  good  sense  the  whole  happiness 
of  their  home  is  to  depend,  then  it  will  be  found  that 
there  is  very  little  of  the  "lottery"  in  marriage;  and 
tliat,  like  any  concern  of  business  or  of  life,  the  man  or 


272         The  Mtm  lulio  couldrit  say  "iVb."    [CHAP.  xii. 

woman  who  judges  and  acts  wisely,  with  proper  fore- 
sight and  discrimination,  will  reap  tlie  almost  certain 
consequences  in  a  bappy  and  prosperous  future.  True, 
mistakes  may  be  made,  and  will  be  made,  as  in  all 
things  human ;  but  nothing  like  the  grievous  mistake 
of  those  who  stake  their  happiness  in  tlie  venture  of  a 
lottery. 

Another  great  point  is,  to  be  able  to  say  "  No  "  on 
proper  occasions.  When  enticements  allure,  or  temp- 
tations assail,  say  "  No  "  at  once,  resolutely  and  deter- 
minedly. "No;  I  can't  afford  it."  Many  have  not 
the  moral  courage  to  adopt  this  course.  They  consid- 
er only  their  selfish  gratification.  They  are  unable  to 
practice  self-denial.  They  yield,  give  way,  and  "  en- 
joy themselves."  Tlie  end  is  often  defalcation,  fraud, 
and  ruin.  What  is  the  verdict  of  society  in  such  cases  ? 
"The  man  has  been  living  beyond  his  means."  Of 
those  who  may  have  been  entertained  by  him,  not  one 
of  them  will  thank  him,  not  one  of  them  will  pity  him, 
not  one  of  them  will  help  him. 

Every  one  has  heard  of  the  man  who  couldn't  say 
"  No."  He  was  every  body's  friend  but  his  own.  His 
worst  enemy  was  himself.  He  ran  rapidly  through  his 
means,  and  then  called  upon  his  friends  for  bonds,  bails, 
and  "  promises  to  pay."  After  spending  his  last  guinea, 
he  died  in  tlie  odor  of  harmless  stupidity  and  folly. 

His  course  in  life  seemed  to  be  directed  by  the 
maxim  of  doing  for  every  body  what  every  body  ask- 
ed him  to  do.  Whether  it  was  that  his  heart  beat  re- 
sponsive to  every  other  heart,  or  that  he  did  not  like 
to  give  offense,  could  never  be  ascertained ;  but  certain 
it  is  that  lie  was  rarely  asked  to  sign  a  requisition,  to 
promise  a  vote,  to  lend  money,  or  to  indorse  a  bill,  that 
lie  did  not  comply.  He  couldn't  say  "  No ;"  and  there 
Avere  many,  who  knew  him  well,  who  said  he  had  not 
the  moral  courairo  to  do  so. 


CHAP,  xil]       The  Courage  to  say  ^^No^  273 

His  father  left  him  a  snug  little  fortune,  and  he  was 
at  once  beset  by  persons  wanting  a  share  of  it.  Now 
was  the  time  to  say  "Xo,"  if  he  could,  but  he  couldn't. 
His  habit  of  yielding  had  been  formed  ;  he  did  not  like 
to  be  bored ;  could  not  bear  to  refuse  ;  could  not  stand 
importunity ;  and  almost  invariably  yielded  to  the  de- 
mands made  upon  his  purse.  While  his  money  lasted 
he  had  no  end  of  friends.  He  was  a  universal  referee 
— every  body's  bondsman.  "  Just  sign  me  this  little 
bit  of  paper,"  was  a  request  often  made  to  him  by  par- 
ticular friends.  "What  is  it?"  he  would  mildly  ask; 
for,  with  all  his  simplicity,  he  prided  himself  upon  his 
caution  !  Yet  he  never  refused.  Three  months  after,  a 
bill  for  a  rather  heavy  amount  would  fall  due,  and  who 
should  be  called  upon  to  make  it  good  but  every  body's 
friend — the  man  Avho  couldn't  say  "  Xo." 

At  last,  a  maltster,  for  whom  he  was  bondsman — a 
person  with  whom  he  had  only  a  nodding  acquaintance 
— suddenly  came  to  a  stand  in  his  business,  ruined  by 
heavy  speculations  in  funds  and  shares ;  when  the  man 
who  couldn't  say  "  jSTo  "  was  called  upon  to  make  good 
the  heavy  duties  due  to  the  crown.  It  was  a  heavy 
stroke,  and  made  him  a  poor  man.  But  he  never  grew 
wise.  He  was  a  post  against  Avhich  every  needy  fel- 
low came  and  rubbed  himself;  a  tap  from  which  every 
thirsty  soul  could  drink;  a  flitch  at  which  every  hun- 
gry dog  had  a  pull ;  an  ass  on  which  every  needy 
rogue  must  have  his  ride;  a  mill  that  ground  every 
body's  corn  but  his  own ;  in  short,  a  "  good-hearted 
fellow,"  who  couldn't,  for  the  life  of  him,  say  "No." 

It  is  of  great  importance  to  a  man's  peace  and  well- 
being  that  he  should  be  able  to  say  "No"  at  the  right 
time.  Many  are  ruined  because  they  can  not  or  do 
not  say  it.  Vice  often  gains  a  footing  within  us,  be- 
cause we  will  not  summon  up  the  courage  to  say  "No." 
We  offer  ourselves  too  often  as  willing  sacrifices  to 


274  ^^ Respectable'' Funerals.         [chap.  xir. 

the  fashion  of  the  world,  because  we  liave  not  the  hon- 
esty to  251'onounce  the  little  word.  The  duelist  dares 
not  say  "No,"  for  he  would  be  "cut."  The  beauty 
hesitates  to  say  it,  when  a  rich  blockhead  offers  her  his 
hand,  because  she  has  set  her  ambition  on  an  "  estab- 
lishment." The  courtier  will  not  say  it,  for  he  must 
smile  and  promise  to  all. 

AVhen  pleasure  tempts  with  its  seductions,  have  the 
courage  to  say  "  No  "  at  once.  The  little  monitor  with- 
in will  approve  the  decision  ;  and  virtue  will  become 
stronger  by  the  act.  When  dissipation  invites,  and 
offers  its  secret  pleasures,  bodly  say  "No."  If  you  do 
not,  if  you  acquiesce  and  succumb,  virtue  will  have 
gone  from  you,  and  your  self-reliance  will  have  received 
a  fatal  shock.  The  first  time  may  require  an  effort, 
but  strength  will  grow  with  use.  It  is  the  only  way 
of  meeting  temptations  to  idleness,  to  self-indulgence, 
to  folly,  to  bad  custom,  to  meet  it  at  once  with  an  in- 
dignant "No."  There  is,  indeed,  great  virtue  in  a 
"  No,"  when  pronounced  at  the  right  time. 

A  man  may  live  beyond  his  means  until  he  has  noth- 
ing left.  He  may  die  in  debt,  and  yet  "  society  "  docs 
not  quit  its  hold  of  him  until  he  is  laid  in  his  grave. 
He  must  be  buried  as  "  society  "  is  buried.  He  must 
have  a  fashionable  funeral.  He  must,  to  the  last,  bear 
witness  to  the  power  of  Mrs.  Grundy.  It  is  to  please 
her  that  the  funeral  cloaks,  hat-bands,  scarfs,  mourn- 
ing-coaches, gilded  hearses,  and  processions  of  mutes 
are  hired.  And  yet,  how  worthless  and  extravagant  is 
the  mummery  of  the  undertaker's  grief,  and  the  feign- 
ed woe  of  the  mutes,  saulies,  and  plume-bearers,  who 
are  paid  for  their  day's  parade  ! 

It  is  not  so  much  among  the  wealthy  upper  classes 
that  the  mischiefs  of  this  useless  and  expensive  mum- 
mery are  felt  as  among  the  middle  and  working  class- 
es.    An  expensive  funeral  is  held  to  be  "  respectable." 


CHAP.  XII.]  Funeral  Extravagance.  275 

Middle-class  people,  wlio  are  struggling  for  front  places 
in  society,  make  an  efibrt  to  rise  into  the  region  of 
mutes  and  nodding  plumes;  and,  like  their  "betters," 
they  are  victimized  by  the  undertakers.  These  fix  the 
fashion  for  the  rest ;  "  we  must  do  as  others  do ;"  and 
most  people  submit  to  pay  the  tax.  They  array  them- 
selves, friends,  and  servants  in  mourning,  and  a  re- 
spectable funeral  is  thus  purchased. 

The  expenditure  falls  heavily  upon  a  family  at  a 
time  when  they  are  the  least  able  to  bear  it.  The 
bread-winner  has  been  taken  away,  and  every  thing  is 
left  to  the  undertaker.  IIow  is  a  wretched  widow  in 
the  midst  of  her  agony,  or  how  are  orphan  children 
deprived  of  the  protecting  hand  of  a  parent,  to  higgle 
with  a  tradesman  about  the  cheapening  of  mourning 
suits,  black  gloves,  weepers,  and  tlie  other  miserable 
"  trappings  of  woe  ?"  It  is  at  such  a  moment,  when  in 
thousands  of  cases  every  pound  and  every  shilling  is 
of  consequence  to  the  survivors,  that  the  little  ready 
money  they  can  scrape  together  is  lavished  without 
question  upon  a  vulgar  and  extravagant  piece  of  pag- 
eantry. Would  not  the  means  which  have  been  thus 
foolishly  expended  in  paying  an  empty  honor  to  the 
dead  be  much  better  applied  in  being  used  for  the 
comfort  and  maintenance  of  the  living  ? 

The  same  evil  propagates  itself  df)wnward  in  socie- 
ty. The  w'orking-classes  suffer  equally  with  the  middle 
classes  in  proportion  to  their  means.  The  average 
cost  of  a  tradesman's  funeral  in  England  is  about  fifty 
pounds ;  of  a  mechanic's  or  laborer's,  it  ranges  from  five 
pounds  to  ten  pounds.  In  Scotland,  funeral  expenses 
are  considerably  lower.  The  desire  to  secure  respect- 
able interment  for  departed  relatives  is  a  strong  and 
widely  diffused  feeling  among  the  laboring  population, 
and  it  does  them  honor.  They  will  subscribe  for  this 
purpose  w'hen  they  will  for  no  otlier.     The  largest  of 


276  John  Wesley  s  Will.  [CHAP.  xii. 

the  working-men's  clubs  are  burial  clubs.  Ten  pounds 
are  usually  allowed  for  the  funeral  of  a  husband,  and 
live  pounds  for  the  funeral  of  a  wife.  As  many  as 
fifteen,  twenty,  thirty,  and  even  forty  pounds,  are  oc- 
casionally expended  on  a  mechanic's  funeral,  in  cases 
where  the  deceased  has  been  a  member  of  several  clubs ; 
on  which  occasions  the  undertakers  meet,  and  "  settle  " 
between  them  their  several  shares  in  the  performance 
of  the  funeral.  It  is  not  unusual  to  insure  a  child's  life 
in  four  or  five  of  these  burial  clubs;  and  we  have  heard 
of  a  case  where  one  man  had  insured  payments  in  no 
fewer  than  nineteen  difierent  burial  clubs  in  Manches- 
ter! 

When  the  working-man,  in  Avhose  family  a  death 
has  occuiTed,  does  not  happen  to  be  a  member  of  a 
burial  club,  he  is  still  governed  by  their  example,  and 
lias  to  tax  himself  seriously  to  com]3ly  with  the  usages 
of  society,  and  give  to  his  wife  or  child  a  respectable 
funeral.  Where  it  is  the  father  of  the  family  himself 
who  has  died,  the  case  is  still  harder.  Perhaps  all  the 
savings  of  his  life  are  spent  in  providing  mourning  for 
liis  wife  and  children  at  his  death.  Such  an  expense, 
at  such  a  time,  is  ruinous,  and  altogether  unjustifiable. 

Does  putting  on  garments  of  a  certain  color  con- 
stitute true  mourning  ?  Is  it  not  the  heart  and  the  af- 
fections that  mourn,  rather  than  the  outside  raiment  ? 
Bingham,  in  speaking  of  the  primitive  Christians,  says 
that  "  they  did  not  condemn  the  notion  of  going  into 
a  mourning  habit  for  the  dead,  nor  yet  much  approve 
of  .it,  but  left  it  to  all  men's  liberty  as  an  indifferent 
thing,  rather  commending  those  that  either  omitted  it 
wholly,  or  in  short  laid  it  aside  again,  as  acting  more 
according  to  the  bravery  and  philosophy  of  a  Christian." 

John  Wesley  directed,  in  his  will,  that  six  poor  men 
should  have  twenty  shillings  each  for  carrying  his  body 
to  the  grave;  "for,"  said   he,  "I  particularly  desire 


« 


CHAP.  XII.]  Funeral  Eeform.  277 


that  there  may  be  no  hearse,  no  coach,  no  escutcheon, 
no  pomp,  except  the  tears  of  those  that  loved  me,  and 
are  following  me  to  Abraham's  bosom.  I  solemnly  ad- 
jure my  executors,  in  the  name  of  God,  punctually  to 
observe  tliis." 

It  will  be  very  difficult  to  alter  the  mourning  cus- 
toms of  our  time.  We  may  anxiously  desire  to  do  so, 
but  the  usual  question  will  occur,  "  What  will  people 
say  ?"  "  What  will  the  world  say  ?"  We  involunta- 
rily shrink  back,  and  play  the  coward  like  our  neigh- 
bors. Still,  common  sense,  repeatedly  expressed,  will 
have  its  influence;  and,  in  course  of  time,  it  can  not 
fail  to  modify  the  fashions  of  society.  The  last  act 
of  Queen  Adelaide,  by  which  she  dispensed  with  the 
hired  mummery  of  undertakers'  grief,  and  the  equally 
characteristic  request  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  on  his  death- 
bed, that  no  ceremony,  nor  pomp,  should  attend  his 
last  obsequies,  can  not  fiiil  to  have  their  due  eflfect 
upon  the  iixshionable  world ;  and,  through  them,  the 
middle  classes,  who  are  so  disposed  to  imitate  them  in 
all  things,  will  in  course  of  time  benefit  by  their  ex- 
ample. There  is  also,  Ave  believe,  a  growing  disposi- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  people  at  large  to  avoid  the 
unmeaning  displays  we  refer  to;  and  it  only  needs  the 
repeated  and  decided  expression  of  public  opinion  to 
secure  a  large  measure  of  beneficial  reform  in  this 
direction. 

Societies  have  already  been  established  in  the  Unit- 
ed States,  the  members  of  Avhich  undertake  to  disuse 
mourning  themselves,  and  to  discountenance  the  use 
of  it  by  others.  It  is  only,  perhaps,  by  association 
and  the  power  of  numbers  that  this  reform  is  to  be 
accomplished ;  for  individuals  here  and  there  could 
scarcely  be  expected  to  make  way  against  the  deeply 
rooted  prejudices  of  the  community  at  large. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


GKEAT   DEBTORS. 

"  Wliat  would  life  be  without  arithmetic,  but  a  scene  of  horrors? 
You  are  going  to  Boulogne,  the  city  of  debts,  peopled  by  men  who 
never  understood  arithmetic." — Sydney  Smith. 

"Quand  on  doit  et  qu'on  ne  paye  pas,  c'est  comme  si  on  ne  devait 
pas." — Arsene  Houssay'e. 

"Of  what  a  hideous  progeny  is  debt  the  father!  What  lies,  what 
meanness,  what  invasions  on  self-respect,  what  cares,  what  double- 
dealing  !  How,  in  due  season  it  will  carve  the  frank,  open  face  into 
wrinkles  ;  how,  like  a  knife,  it  will  stab  the  honest  heart." — Douglas 
Jerrold. 

"The  human  species,  according  to  the  best  theory  I  can  form  of  it, 
is  composed  of  two  distinct  races,  the  men  who  borrow  and  the  men 
who  lend.  To  these  two  original  diversities  may  be  reduced  all  those 
impertinent  classifications  of  Gothic  and  Celtic  tribes,  white  men,  black 
men,  red  men,  and  such-like." — Charles  Lajib. 

PEOPLE  do  not  know  what  troubles  tliey  are  brew- 
ing for  themselves  when  they  run  into  debt.  It 
does  not  matter  for  Avhat  the  debt  is  incurred.  It 
hangs  like  a  millstone  round  a  man's  neck  until  he  is 
relieved  of  it.  It  presses  like  a  nightmare  upon  him. 
It  hinders  the  well-being  of  his  family.  It  destroys 
the  happiness  of  his  household. 

Even  those  who  are  in  the  regular  receipt  of  large 
incomes  feel  crippled,  often  for  years,  by  the  incubus 
of  debt.  Weighed  down  by  this,  what  can  a  man  do 
to  save — to  economize  with  a  view  to  the  future  of  his 
Avife  and  children?  A  man  in  debt  is  disabled  from  in- 
suring his  life,  from  insuring  his  house  and  goods,  from 
putting  money  in  the  bank,  from  buying  a  house  or  a 
freehold.  All  his  surplus  gains  must  go  toward  the 
paj'-ment  of  his  debt. 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Greatness  and  Debt.  279 

Even  men  of  enormous  property,  great  lords  witli 
vast  landed  estates,  often  feel  themselves  oppressed 
and  made  miserable  by  loads  of  debt.  They  or  their 
forefathers  having  contracted  extravagant  habits  —  a 
taste  for  gambling,  horse-racing,  or  expensive  living — 
borrow  money  on  their  estates,  and  the  burden  of  debt 
remains.  Not,  perhaps,  in  the  case  of  strictly  entailed 
estates  —  for  the  aristocracy  have  contrived  so  tliat 
their  debts  shall  be  wiped  out  at  their  deatli,  and  tliey 
can  thus  gratify  their  spendthrift  tastes  at  the  expense 
of  the  public — the  estates  going  comparatively  unbur- 
dened to  the  entailed  heir.  But  comparatively  few 
are  in  tlie  position  of  the  privileged  classes.  In  the 
case  of  the  majority,  the  debts  are  inherited  witli  the 
estates,  and  often  the  debts  are  more  than  the  estates 
are  worth.  Thus  it  happens  that  a  large  part  of  the 
lands  of  England  are  at  this  moment  the  property  of 
mortgagees  and  money-lenders. 

The  greatest  men  have  been  in  debt.  It  has  even 
been  alleged  that  greatness  and  debt  have  a  certain 
relation  to  each  other.  Great  men  have  great  debts ; 
they  are  trusted.  So  have  great  nations;  they  are 
respectable,  and  have  credit.  Spiritless  men  have  no 
debts,  neither  have  spiritless  nations;  nobody  will  trust 
them.  Men  as  well  as  nations  in  debt  secure  a  widely 
extended  interest.  Their  names  are  written  in  many 
books ;  and  many  are  the  conjectures  formed  as  to 
whether  they  will  pay  —  or  not.  The  man  who  has 
no  debts  slips  through  the  world  comparatively  unno- 
ticed ;  while  he  who  is  in  every  body's  books  has  all 
eyes  fixed  upon  him.  Ilis  health  is  inquired  after  with 
interest ;  and  if  he  goes  into  foreign  countries,  his  re- 
turn is  anxiously  looked  for. 

The  creditor  is  usually  depicted  as  a  severe  man, 
with  a  liard  visage ;  while  the  debtor  is  an  open-hand- 
ed, generous  man,  ready  to  help  and  entertain  every 


280  Seedy  Side  of  DehL  [CHAP.  XIII. 

body.  He  is  the  object  of  general  sympathy.  "When 
Goldsmith  was  dunned  for  his  milk-score  and  arrest- 
ed for  the  rent  of  his  apartments,  who  would  think  of 
pitying  the  milk-woman  or  the  landlady  ?  It  is  the 
man  in  debt  who  is  the  prominent  feature  of  the  piece, 
and  all  our  sympathy  is  reserved  for  him.  "  What 
were  you,"  asked  Pantagruel  of  Panurge,  "  without 
your  debts  ?  God  preserve  me  from  ever  being  with- 
out them !  Do  you  think  there  is  any  thing  divine  in 
lendinor  or  in  creditinsj  others  ?  'No  !  To  owe  is  the 
true  heroic  virtue !" 

Yet,  whatever  may  be  said  in  praise  of  debt,  it  has 
unquestionably  a  very  seedy  side.  The  man  in  debt  is 
driven  to  resort  to  many  sorry  expedients  to  live.  He 
is  the  victim  of  duns  and  sheriff's  officers.  Few  can 
treat  them  with  the  indifference  that  Sheridan  did, 
who  put  them  into  livery  to  wait  upon  his  guests. 
The  debtor  starts  and  grows  pale  at  every  knock  at 
his  door.  His  friends  grow  cool,  and  his  relatives  shun 
liim.  He  is  ashamed  to  go  abroad,  and  has  no  comfort 
at  home.  He  becomes  crabbed,  morose,  and  querulous, 
losing  all  pleasure  in  life.  He  wants  the  passport  to 
enjoyment  and  respect — money ;  he  has  only  his  debts, 
and  these  make  him  suspected,  despised,  and  snubbed. 
He  lives  in  the  Slough  of  Despond.  He  feels  degraded 
in  others'  eyes  as  well  as  in  his  own.  He  must  submit 
to  impertinent  demands,  which  he  can  only  put  off  by 
sliam  excuses.  He  has  ceased  to  be  his  own  master, 
and  has  lost  the  independent  bearing  of  a  man.  He 
seeks  to  excite  pity,  and  pleads  for  time.  A  sharp  at- 
torney pounces  on  him,  and  suddenly  he  feels  himself 
in  the  vulture's  gripe.  He  tries  a  friend  or  a  relative, 
but  all  that  he  obtains  is  a  civil  leer,  and  a  cool  re- 
pulse. He  tries  a  money-lender;  and,  if  he  succeeds, 
he  is  only  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire.  It  is 
easy  to  see  what  tlie  end  will  be — a  life  of  mean  shifts 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Bunning  up  Bills.  281 

and  expedients,  perhaps  ending  in  the  jail  or  the  work- 
house. 

Can  a  man  keep  out  of  debt  ?  Is  there  a  possibility 
of  avoiding  tlie  moral  degradation  whicli  accompanies 
it?  Could  not  debt  be  dispensed  witli  altogether,  and 
man's  independence  preserved  secure?  There  is  only- 
one  way  of  doing  this;  by  "living  within  the  means." 
tJnhappily,  this  is  too  little  the  practice  in  modern 
times.  We  incur  debt,  trusting  to  the  future  for  the 
opportunity  of  defraying  it.  We  can  not  resist  the 
temptation  to  spend  money.  One  will  have  fine  fur- 
niture and  live  in  a  high -rented  house;  another  will 
have  wines  and  a  box  at  the  opera ;  a  third  must  give 
dinners  and  music -parties  —  all  good  things  in  their 
way,  but  not  to  be  indulged  in  if  they  can  not  be  paid 
for.  Is  it  not  a  shabby  thing  to  pretend  to  give  din- 
ners, if  the  real  parties  who  i:)rovide  them  are  the 
butcher,  the  poulterer,  and  the  wine-merchant,  whom 
you  are  in  debt  to,  and  can  not  pay  ? 

A  man  has  no  business  to  live  in  a  style  which  his 
income  can  not  support,  or  to  mortgage  his  earnings  of 
next  week  or  of  next  year,  in  order  to  live  luxuriously 
to-day.  The  whole  system  of  debt,  by  means  of  whicli 
we  forestall  and  anticipate  the  future,  is  wrong.  They 
are  almost  as  much  to  blame  who  give  credit,  and  en- 
courage customers  to  take  credit,  as  those  are  who  in- 
cur debts.  A  man  knows  what  his  actual  position  is 
if  he  pays  his  way  as  he  goes.  lie  can  keep  within  his 
means,  and  so  apportion  his  expenditure  as  to  reserve 
a  fund  of  savings  against  a  time  of  need.  lie  is  al- 
ways balanced  up;  and  if  he  buys  nothing  but  what 
lie  pays  for  in  cash,  he  can  not  fail  to  be  on  the  credit 
side  of  his  household  accounts  at  the  year's  end. 

But  once  let  him  commence  the  i)ractice  of  running 
up  bills  —  one  at  the  tailor's,  another  at  the  dress- 
maker's and  milliner's,  another  at  the  butcher's,  anoth- 


282  Loan  Clubs.  [CHAP.  xiii. 

er  at  the  grocer's,  and  so  on;  and  he  never  knows  how 
he  stands.  He  is  deceived  into  debt ;  the  road  is  made 
smooth  and  pleasant  for  him;  things  flow  into  the 
house  for  which  he  does  not  seem  to  pay.  Bat  they 
are  all  set  down  against  him ;  and  at  the  year's  end, 
when  the  bills  come  in,  he  is  ready  to  lift  np  liis  hands 
in  dismay.  Then  he  finds  that  the  sweet  of  the  honey 
will  not  repay  for  the  smart  of  the  sting. 

It  is  the  same  as  respects  the  poorer  classes.  ISTot 
many  years  since,  Parliament  passed  a  law  facilitating 
the  establishment  of  small -loan  societies,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  helping  small  tradesmen  and  poor  people  gen- 
erally to  raise  money  on  an  emergency.  The  law  was 
at  once  pounced  upon  by  the  numerous  race  of  Grab- 
alls,  as  a  means  of  putting  money  in  their  purse. 
They  gave  the  working -classes  facilities  for  running 
into  debt,  and  for  mortgaging  their  future  industry. 
A  few  men,  desirous  of  making  money,  would  form 
themselves  into  a  loan  club,  and  ofter  sums  of  money 
ostensibly  at  five  per  cent,  interest,  repayable  in  week- 
ly installments.  The  laboring  people  eagerly  availed 
themselves  of  the  facility  for  getting  in  debt.  One 
wanted  money  for  "  a  spree,"  another  wanted  money 
for  a  suit  of  clothes,  a  third  for  an  eight-day  clock,  and 
so  on  ;  and  instead  of  saving  the  money  beforehand, 
they  preferred  getting  the  money  from  the  club,  keep- 
ing themselves  in  difficulties  and  poverty  until  the  debt 
was  paid  off.  Such  a  practice  is  worse  than  living  from 
hand  to  mouth  :  it  is  living  upon  one's  own  vitals. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  how  the  partners  in  the  loan 
club  made  money.  Suppose  that  they  advanced  ten 
pounds  for  three  months  at  five  per  cent.  It  is  rejDay- 
able  in  weekly  installments  at  ten  shillings  a  week — the 
repayments  commencing  the  very  first  week  after  the 
advance  has  been  made.  But  though  ten  shillings  are 
repaid  weekly  until  the  debt  is  wiped  off,  interest  at 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Genius  and  Debt  283 

five  per  cent,  is  charged  upon  the  -whole  amount  until 
the  last  installment  is  paid  oft'.  So  that,  though  the 
nominal  interest  is  five  per  cent.,  it  goes  on  increasing 
until,  during  the  last  week,  it  reaches  the  enormous  rate 
of  one  hundred  per  cent. !  This  is  what  is  called  "eat- 
ing the  calf  in  the  cow's  belly." 

Men  of  genius  are  equally  facile  in  running  into  debt. 
Genius  has  no  necessary  connection  with  prudence  or 
self-restraint,  nor  does  it  exercise  any  influence  over  the 
common  rules  of  arithmetic,  which  are  rigid  and  inflex- 
ible. Men  of  genius  are  often  superior  to  what  Bacon 
calls  "  the  wisdom  of  business."  Yet  Bacon  himself  did 
not  follow  his  own  advice,  but  was  ruined  by  his  im- 
providence. He  was  in  straits  and  difticulties  when  a 
youth,  and  in  still  greater  straits  and  difliculties  when 
a  man.  His  life  was  splendid  ;  but  his  excessive  ex- 
penditure involved  him  in  debts  which  created  a  per- 
petual craving  for  money.  One  day,  in  passing  out  to 
his  antechambers,  where  his  followers  waited  for  his 
appearance,  he  said, "  Be  seated,  my  masters  ;  your  rise 
has  been  my  fall."  To  supply  his  wants.  Bacon  took 
bribes,  and  was  thereupon  beset  by  his  enemies,  con- 
victed, degraded,  and  ruined. 

Even  men  with  a  special  genius  for  finance  on  a 
grand  scale  may  completely  break  down  in  the  man- 
agement of  their  own  private  aflairs.  Pitt  managed 
the  national  finances  during  a  period  of  unexampled 
diflnculty,  yet  was  himself  always  plunged  in  debt. 
Lord  Carrington,  the  ex-banker,  once  or  twice,  at  Mr. 
Pitt's  request,  examined  his  household  accounts,  and 
found  the  quantity  of  butcher's  meat  charged  in  the 
bills  was  one  hundred -weight  a  week.  The  charge 
for  servants'  wages,  board  wages,  living,  and  household 
bills,  exceeded  two  thousand  three  hundred  pounds  a 
year.  At  Pitt's  death,  the  nation  voted  forty  thousand 
pounds  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  his  creditors  ;  yet  his 


284  Fox  and  Sheridan.  [chap.  xiii. 

income  had  never  been  less  than  six  thousand  pounds 
a  year ;  and  at  one  time,  with  the  wardenship  of  the 
Cinque  Ports,  it  was  nearly  four  tliousand  pounds  a 
year  more.  Macaulay  truly  says  that  "the  character 
of  Pitt  would  have  stood  higher  if,  with  the  disinter- 
estedness of  Pericles  and  De  Witt,  he  had  united  their 
dignified  frugality." 

But  Pitt  by  no  means  stood  alone.  Lord  Melville 
was  as  unthrifty  in  the  management  of  his  own  affairs 
as  he  was  of  the  money  of  the  public.  Fox  was  an 
enormous  ower,  his  financial  maxim  being  that  a  man 
need  never  want  money  if  he  was  Avilling  to  pay 
enough  for  it.  Fox  called  the  outer  room  at  Almack's, 
where  he  borrowed  on  occasions  from  Jew  lenders  at 
exorbitant  premiums,  his  "  Jerusalem  Chamber."  Pas- 
sion for  play  was  his  great  vice,  and  at  a  very  early 
age  it  involved  liim  in  debt  to  an  enormous  amount. 
It  is  stated  by  Gibbon  that  on  one  occasion  Fox  sat 
playing  at  hazard  for  twenty  hours  in  succession,  losing 
eleven  thousand  pounds.  But  deep  play  was  the  vice 
of  high  life  in  those  daj^s,  and  cheating  was  not  un- 
known. Selwyn,  alluding  to  Fox's  losses  at  play,  call- 
ed him  Charles  the  Martyr. 

Sheridan  was  the  hero  of  debt.  He  lived  on  it. 
Though  he  received  large  sums  of  money  in  one  way 
or  another,  no  one  knew  what  became  of  it,  for  he  j^aid 
nobody.  It  seemed  to  melt  away  in  his  hands  like 
snow  in  summer.  He  spent  his  first  wife's  fortune  of 
one  thousand  six  hundred  pounds  in  a  six  weeks'  jaunt 
to  Bath.  Necessity  drove  him  to  literature,  and  per- 
liaps  to  the  stimulus  of  poverty  we  owe  "The  Rivals" 
and  the  dramas  which  succeeded  it.  With  his  second 
wife  he  obtained  a  fortune  of  five  thousand  pounds, 
and  with  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  which  he  realized  by 
the  sale  of  Drury  Lane  shares,  he  bought  an  estate  in 
Surrey,  from  which  he  was  driven  by  debt  and  duns. 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Sheridan  s  Debts.  285 

The  remainder  of  his  life  was  a  series  of  shifts,  some- 
times brilliant,  but  oftener  degrading,  to  raise  money 
and  evade  creditors.  Taylor,  of  the  Opera-house,  used 
to  say  that  if  he  took  ofl*  his  hat  to  Sheridan  in  the 
street,  it  would  cost  him  fifty  pounds;  but  if  he  stop- 
ped to  speak  to  him,  it  would  cost  a  hundred. 

One  of  Sheridan's  creditors  came  for  his  money  on 
horseback.  *'That  is  a  nice  mare,"  said  Sheridan. 
"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  "  Yes,  indeed  ;  how  docs  she 
trot  ?"  The  creditor,  flattered,  told  him  he  should  sec, 
and  immediately  put  the  mare  at  full  trotting  pace, 
on  which  Sheridan  took  the  opportunity  of  trotting 
round  the  nearest  corner.  His  duns  would  come  in 
numbers  each  morning,  to  catch  him  before  he  went 
out.  They  were  shown  into  the  rooms  on  each  side  of 
the  entrance- hall.  When  Sheridan  had  breakfasted, 
lie  would  come  down,  and  ask,  "Are  those  doors  all 
shut,  John?"  and  on  being  assured  that  they  were,  he 
marched  out  deliberately  between  them. 

He  was  in  debt  all  round  —  to  his  milkman,  his 
grocer,  his  baker,  and  his  butcher.  Sometimes  Mrs. 
Sheridan  would  be  kept  waiting  for  an  hour  or  more 
while  the  servants  were  beating  up  the  neighborhood 
for  coffee,  butter,  eggs,  and  rolls.  AYhile  Sheridan  was 
pay-master  of  the  navy,  a  butcher  one  day  brought  a 
leg  of  mutton  to  the  kitchen.  The  cook  took  it  and 
clapped  it  in  the  pot  to  boil,  and  went  upstairs  for  the 
money ;  but  not  returning,  the  butcher  coolly  removed 
the  pot -lid,  took  out  the  mutton,  and  walked  away 
with  it  in  his  tray.*  Yet,  while  living  in  these  straits, 
Sheridan,  when  invited  with  his  son  into  the  country, 
usually  went  in  two  chaises  and  four — he  in  one,  and 
his  son  Tom  following  in  the  other. 

The  end  of  all  was  very  sad.     For  some  weeks  be- 

*  Haydon,  "Autobiography,"  vol.  ii,,  p.  104. 


286  Lamartine.  [chap.  xiii. 

fore  his  death  he  was  nearly  destitute  of  the  means  of 
subsistence.  His  noble  and  royal  friends  had  entirely 
deserted  him.  Executions  for  debt  were  in  his  house, 
and  he  passed  his  last  days  in  the  custody  of  sheriffs' 
officers,  who  abstained  from  conveying  him  to  prison 
merely  because  they  were  assured  that  to  remove  him 
would  cause  his  immediate  death.* 

The  Cardinal  de  Retz  sold  off  every  thing  to  pay  his 
debts,  but  he  did  not  recover  his  liberty.  He  described 
the  perpetual  anguish  of  the  debtor.  He  even  pre- 
ferred confinement  in  the  Castle  of  Vincennes  to  beings 
exposed  to  the  annoyances  of  his  creditors.  Mirabeau's 
life  was  one  of  perpetual  debt ;  for  he  was  a  dreadful 
spendthrift.  The  only  mode  by  which  his  father  could 
keep  him  out  of  scrapes  w'as  by  obtaining  a  lettre  de 
cachet,  and  having  him  safely  imprisoned.  Though 
Mirabeau  wielded  the  powers  of  the  state,  when  he 
died  he  was  so  poor,  or  had  been  so  extravagant,  that 
he  was  still  indebted  to  the  tailor  for  his  weddino;:-suit. 

Lamartine  ran  through  half  a  dozen  fortunes,  and 
at  the  end  of  his  life  was  "  sending  round  the  hat." 
Lamartine  boldly  proclaimed  that  he  hated  arithmetic, 
"  that  negative  of  every  noble  thought."  He  was  ac- 
cordingly driven  to  very  shabby  shifts  to  live.  The 
*'  Cours  de  Litterature  "  alone  brought  him  in  two  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  a  year,  yet  the  money  ran  through 
his  hands  like  quicksilver.  His  debts  are  said  to  have 
amounted  to  three  millions  of  francs;  yet  his  style  of 
living  remained  unchanged.  One  of  his  enthusiastic 
admirers,  having  stinted  himself  in  subscribing  toward 
the  re-purchase  of  the  Lamartine  estates,  went  into  a 
fish-monger's  one  day  to  purchase  a  piece  of  turbot. 
It  was  too  dear  for  his  means.  A  distinguished-look- 
ing personage  entered,  paused  for  a  moment  before  the 

*  "  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Sir  S.  llomilly,"  vol.  iii.,  p.  262. 


CHAP.  XIII.]       Debts  of  Men  of  Science.  287 

turbot,  and,  without  questioning  the  price,  ordered  the 
fish  to  be  sent  to  his  house.     It  was  31.  de  Lamartine. 

"Webster,  the  American  statesman,  was  afflicted  with 
impecuniosity,  arising  from  liis  carelessness  about  mon- 
ey matters,  as  well  as  from  his  extravagance.  If  we 
are  to  believe  Theodore  Parker,  Webster,  like  Bacon, 
took  bribes :  "  He  contracted  debts  and  did  not  set- 
tle, borrowed  and  yielded  not  again.     Private  money 

sometimes  clove  to  his  hands A  senator  of  the 

United  States,  he  was  pensioned  by  the  manufacturers 
of  Boston.  His  later  speeches  smell  of  bribes."  Mon- 
roe and  Jefferson  were  always  in  want  of  money,  and 
often  in  debt ;  though  they  were  both  honest  men. 

The  life  which  public  men  lead  nowadays  is  often 
an  incentive  to  excessive  expenditure.  They  may  be 
men  of  moderate  means ;  they  may  even  be  poor ;  but 
not  many  of  them,  moving  in  general  society,  have  the 
moral  courasie  to  seem  to  be  so.  To  maintain  their 
social  position,  they  think  it  necessary  to  live  as  others 
do.  They  are  thus  drawn  into  the  vortex  of  debt,  and 
into  all  the  troubles,  annoyances,  shabby  shifts,  and 
dishonesties  which  debt  involves. 

Men  of  science  are  for  the  most  part  exempt  from 
the  necessity  of  shining  in  society;  and  hence  they 
furnish  but  a  small  number  of  instances  of  illustrious 
debtors.  Many  of  them  have  been  poor,  but  they  liave 
usually  lived  within  their  means.  Kepler's  life  was 
indeed  a  struggle  with  poverty  and  debt ;  arising  prin- 
cipally from  the  circumstance  of  his  salary,  as  principal 
mathematician  to  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  having 
been  always  in  arrear.  This  drove  him  to  casting  na- 
tivities in  order  to  earn  a  living.  "I  pass  my  time," 
he  once  wrote,  "in  begging  at  the  doors  of  crown 
treasurers."  At  his  death  he  left  only  twenty -two 
crowns,  the  dress  he  wore,  two  shirts,  a  few  books,  and 
many  manuscripts.     Leibnitz  left  beliind  him  a  largo 


288  Debts  of  Artists.  [chap.  xiil. 

amount  of  debt ;  but  this  may  liave  been  caused  by  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  politician  as  well  as  a  i^hilosopher, 
and  had  frequent  occasion  to  visit  foreign  courts,  and 
to  mix  on  equal  terms  with  the  society  of  the  great. 

Spinoza  was  poor  in  means;  yet  inasmuch  as  what 
he  earned  by  polishing  glasses  for  the  opticians  was 
enough  to  supply  his  wants,  he  incurred  no  debts. 
He  refused  a  professorship,  and  refused  a  pension, 
2)referring  to  live  and  die  independent.  Dalton  had  a 
philosophical  disregard  for  money.  When  his  fellow- 
townsmen  at  Manchester  once  proposed  to  provide  him 
with  an  independence,  that  he  might  devote  the  rest 
of  his  life  to  scientific  investigation,  he  declined  the 
offer,  saying  that  "  teaching  was  a  kind  of  recreation 
to  him,  and  that  if  richer  he  would  probably  not  spend 
more  time  in  his  investiofations  than  he  was  accustom- 
ed  to  do."  Faraday's  was  another  instance  of  moder- 
ate means  and  noble  independence.  Lagrange  was  ac- 
customed to  attribute  his  fame  and  happiness  to  the 
poverty  of  his  father,  the  royal  astronomer  of  Turin. 
"Had  I  been  rich,"  he  said,  "probably  I  should  not 
have  become  a  mathematician." 

The  2:reatest  debtor  connected  with  science  was  John 
Hunter,  who  expended  all  his  available  means — and 
they  were  wholly  earned  by  himself — in  accumulating 
the  splendid  collection  now  known  as  the  Hunterian 
Museum.  All  that  he  could  collect  in  fees  went  to 
purchase  new  objects  for  preparation  and  dissection,  or 
upon  carpenters'  and  brick-layers'  work  for  the  erection 
of  his  gallery.  Though  his  family  were  left  in  strait- 
ened circumstances  at  his  death,  the  sale  of  the  collec- 
tion to  the  nation  for  fifteen  thousand  pounds  enabled 
all  his  debts  to  be  paid,  and  at  the  same  time  left  an 
enduring  monument  to  his  fame. 

Great  artists  have  nearly  all  struggled  into  celebrity 
through  poverty,  and  some  have  never  entirely  emerged 


CHAP.  XIII.]      Italian  Artists — Haydon.  289 

from  it.  This,  however,  has  been  mainly  because  of 
their  improvidence.  Jan  Steen  was  always  in  distress, 
arising  principally  from  the  habit  he  had  acquired  of 
drinking  his  own  beer;  for  he  was  first  a  brewer  and 
afterward  a  tavern-keeper.  He  drank  and  painted  al- 
ternately, sometimes  transferring  the  drinking  scenes 
of  which  he  had  been  a  witness  to  the  canvas,  even 
while  himself  in  a  state  of  intoxication.  He  died  in 
debt,  after  which  his  pictures  rose  in  value,  until  now 
they  are  worth  their  weight  in  gold. 

Notwithstanding  the  large  income  of  Vandyck,  his 
style  of  living  was  so  splendid  and  costly  as  to  involve 
him  in  heavy  debt.  To  repair  his  fortunes,  he  studied 
alchemy  for  a  time,  in  the  hope  of  discovering  the  phi- 
losopher's stone.  But  toward  the  end  of  his  life  he  was 
enabled  to  retrieve  his  position,  and  to  leave  a  com- 
fortable competency  to  his  widow.  Rembrandt,  on  the 
other  hand,  involved  himself  in  debt  through  his  love 
of  art.  He  was  an  insatiable  collector  of  drawings, 
armor,  and  articles  of  virtu.,  and  thus  became  involved 
in  such  difficulties  that  he  was  declared  a  bankrupt. 
His  property  remained  under  legal  control  for  thirteen 
years,  until  his  death. 

The  great  Italian  artists  were  for  the  most  part  tem- 
perate and  moderate  men,  and  lived  within  their  means. 
Haydon,  in  his  "Autobiography,"  says,  "Raffaelle,  Mi- 
chael Angelo,  Zeuxis,  Apelles,  Rubens,  Reynolds,  Titian, 
were  rich  and  happy.  Why?  Because  with  their  gen- 
ius they  combined  practical  prudence."  Haydon  him- 
self was  an  instance  of  the  contrary  practice.  His  life 
was  a  prolonged  struggle  wdth  difficulty  and  debt.  He 
was  no  sooner  free  from  one  obligation  than  he  was  in- 
volved in  another.  His  "Mock  Election"  was  painted 
in  the  King's  Bench  prison,  while  he  lay  there  for  debt. 
There  is  a  strange  entry  in  his  journal :  "  I  borrowed 
ten  pounds  to-day  of  my  butter-man,  Webb,  an  old  pu- 

13 


290  ■■     The  Old  Poets.  [CHAP.  Xlir. 

pil  of  mine,  recommended  to  rae  by  Sir  George  Beau- 
mont twenty- four  years  ago,  but  who  wisely,  after 
drawing  hands,  set  up  a  huUer-shop^  and  was  enabled 
to  send  his  old  master  ten  pounds  in  his  necessity." 
Haydon's  "Autobiography"  is  full  of  his  contests  with 
lawyers  and  sheriffs'  officers.  Creditors  dogged  and 
dunned  liim  at  every  step.  "Lazarus's  head,"  he 
writes,  "  was  painted  just  after  an  arrest ;  Eucles  was 
finished  from  a  man  in  possession;  the  beautiful  face 
in  Xeuophon  in  the  afternoon,  after  a  morning  spent  in 
begging  mercy  of  lawyers ;  and  Cassandra's  head  was 
finished  in  agony  not  to  be  described,  and  her  hand 
completed  after  a  broker's  man  in  possession,  in  an  ex- 
ecution put  in  for  taxes."* 

Cowper  used  to  say  that  he  never  knew  a  poet  who 
was  not  thriftless  ;  and  he  included  himself.  Notwith- 
standing his  quiet,  retired  life,  he  was  constantly  out- 
running the  constable.  "By  the  help  of  good  manage- 
ment," he  once  wrote,  "and  a  clear  notion  of  econom- 
ical matters,  I  contrived  in  three  months  to  spend  the 
income  of  a  twelvemonth."  But  though  the  number 
of  thriftless  poets  may  be  great,  it  must  not  be  forgot- 
ten tliat  Shakspeare,  who  stands  at  the  head  of  the  list, 
was  a  prudent  man.  He  economized  his  means,  and 
left  his  family  in  comfort.  His  contemporaries  were, 
however,  for  the  most  part  indebted  men.  Ben  Jon- 
son  was  often  embarrassed,  and  always  poor,  borrow- 
ing twenty  shillings  at  a  time  from  Henslowe;  though 
he  rarely  denied  himself  another  jolly  night  at  The 
Mermaid.  Massinger  was  often  so  reduced  in  circum- 
stances as  not  to  be  able  to  pay  his  score  at  the  same 
tavern. 

Greene,  Peele,  and  Marlowe  lived  lives  of  dissipation, 
and  died  in  poverty.     Marlowe  was  killed  in  a  drunk- 

*  Haydon,  "Autobiography,"  vol.  ii.,  p.  400. 


GHAP.  XIII.]         Savage  and  Johnson.  291 

en  brawl.  "When  Greene  was  on  his  death-bed,  dying 
of  the  disease  which  his  excesses  had  caused,  he  was 
haunted  by  the  debt  of  ten  pounds  which  lie  owed  to 
the  shoe-maker  who  had  lodged  him.  He  then  warned 
his  friend  Peele  to  amend  his  ways;  but  Peele,  like 
him,  died  in  distress  and  debt,  one  of  the  last  letters 
he  wrote  being  an  imploring  letter  to  Burleigh  asking 
for  relief — "Long  sickness,"  said  he,  "having  so  en- 
feebled me  as  maketh  bashfulness  ahnost  impudency." 
Spenser  died  forsaken,  and  in  want.  Ben  Jonson  says 
of  him  that  "he  died  for  lack  of  bread  in  King  Street, 
and  refused  twenty  broad  pieces  sent  to  him  by  my 
lord  of  Essex,"  adding,  "  he  was  sorrie  he  had  no  time 
to  spend  them." 

Of  later  poets  and  literary  men,  Milton  died  in  ob- 
scurity, though  not  in  debt.  Lovelace  died  in  a  cellar. 
Butler,  the  author  of  "Hudibras,"  died  of  starvation  in 
Rose  Alley,  the  same  place  in  which  Dryden  was  beaten 
by  hired  ruffians.  Otway  was  hunted  by  bailiffs  to  his 
last  hiding-place  on  Tower  Hill.  His  last  act  was  to 
beg  a  shilling  of  a  gentleAan,  who  gave  him  a  guinea; 
and  buying  a  loaf  to  appease  his  hunger,  he  choked 
at  the  first  mouthful.  Wycherley  lay  seven  years  in 
jail  for  debt,  but  lived  to  die  in  his  bed  at  nearly 
eighty.  Fielding's  extravagance  and"  dissipation  in 
early  life  involved  him  in  difficulties  which  he  never 
entirely  shook  off,  and  his  death  was  imbittered  by 
the  poverty  in  which  he  left  his  widow  and  child  in  a 
foreign  land. 

Savage  had  a  pension  of  fifty  pounds  a  year,  which 
he  usually  spent  in  a  few  days.  It  was  then  fashiona- 
ble to  wear  scarlet  cloaks  trimmed  with  gold  lace ;  and 
Johnson  one  day  met  him,  just  after  he  had  got  liis 
pension,  with  one  of  these  cloaks  upon  his  back,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  his  naked  toes  were  stickinix  throuf>'h 
his  shoes.     After  livinof  a  life  of  recklessness  and  dissi- 


292  Sterne. — Steele.  [chap.  xiii. 

pation,  he  died  in  prison,  where  he  had  lain  six  months 
for  debt.  In  conchiding  his  "  Life  of  Savage,"  John- 
son says :  "  This  relation  will  not  be  wholly  without  its 
use,  if  those  who,  in  confidence  of  superior  capacities 
or  attainments,  disregard  the  common  maxims  of  life, 
shall  be  reminded  that  nothing  will  supply  the  want 
of  prudence ;  and  that  negligence  and  irregularity,  long 
continued,  will  make  knowledge  useless,  wit  ridiculous, 
and  genius  contemptible." 

Sterne  died  poor,  if  he  did  not  die  insolvent.  At 
his  death,  a  subscription  was  got  up  for  the  support  of 
his  wife  and  daughter.  Churchill  was  imprisoned  for 
debt,  occasioned  by  his  dissoluteness  and  extravagance 
— Cowper  characterizing  him  as  "  spendthrift  alike  of 
money  and  of  wit."  Chatterton,  reduced  to  a  state  of 
starvation  and  despair,  poisoned  himself  in  his  eight- 
eenth year.  Sir  Richard  Steele  was  rarely  out  of 
debt.  In  many  respects  he  resembled  Sheridan  in 
temperament  and  character.  He  was  full  of  specula- 
tion, and  was  always  on  the  point  of  some  grand  stroke 
of  luck  which  was  to  make  his  fortune.  lie  was  per- 
petually haunted  by  duns  and  bailiffs;  yet  he  did  not 
stint  himself  of  luxuries  so  long  as  he  obtained  cred- 
it. When  appointed  to  the  office  of  commissioner  of 
stamps,  with  a  moderate  income,  he  set  up  a  carriage 
with  two  and  sometimes  four  horses;  and  he  main- 
tained two  houses,  one  in  London,  the  other  at  Hamp- 
ton. His  means  being  altogether  inadequate  to  this 
style  of  living,  he  soon  became  drowned  in  greater 
debt  than  before.  He  was  repeatedly  impounded  by 
lawyers,  and  locked  up  in  sponging -houses.  Execu- 
tions were  put  into  his  houses,  his  furniture  was  sold 
off;  Ids  wife  wanted  the  commonest  necessaries  of  life ; 
and  still  the  pleasure-loving  Steele  maintained  his  equa- 
nimity and  good  temper.  Something  great  was  al- 
ways on  the  point  of  turning  up  in  his  favor.     One  of 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Goldsmith's  Debts.  293 

his  grandest  schemes  was  that  for  bringing  fish  alive 
to  the  London  market ;  "  and  then,"  said  he  to  his  wife, 
"  you  will  be  better  provided  for  than  any  lady  in  En- 
gland." But  the  good  turn  never  came  to  Sir  Rich- 
ard; and  he  died  out  at  elbows  on  his  wife's  little 
property  in  Wales. 

Goldsmith  was  another  of  the  happy-go-lucky  debt- 
ors. He  swam  in  debt.  He  was  no  sooner  out  of  it, 
than  he  was  plunged  into  it  again,  deeper  than  before. 
The  first  money  he  earned  as  a  tutor — it  was  all  the 
money  he  had — was  spent  in  buying  a  horse.  His  re- 
lations raised  fifty  pounds,  and  sent  him  to  the  Temple 
to  study  law,  but  he  got  no  farther  than  Dublin,  where 
lie  spent  or  gambled  away  all  the  money.  Then  he 
went  to  Edinburgh  to  study  medicine,  and  was  forced 
to  fly  from  it,  having  become  surety  for  a  friend.  He 
started  on  the  tour  of  Europe  without  any  money  in 
his  pocket — with  nothing  but  his  flute ;  and  he  begged 
and  played,  until  he  came  back  to  England,  as  poor  as 
he  went.  He  himself  used  afterward  to  say  that  there 
was  hardly  a  kingdom  in  Europe  in  which  he  was  not 
a  debtor.^ 

Even  when  Goldsmith  began  to  earn  money  freely, 
he  was  still  in  debt.  He  gave  away  with  one  hand 
what  he  earned  with  the  other.  He  was  dunned  for 
his  milk-score,  arrested  for  rent,  threatened  by  lawyers, 
but  never  learned  the  wisdom  of  economy.  In  the  same 
month  in  which  the  second  edition  of  his  "  Vicar  of 
Wakefield"  was  published,  his  bill  of  fifteen  guineas, 
drawn  on  Newbery,  was  returned  dishonored.  When 
he  was  figuring  at  Boswell's  dinner  in  Old  Bond  Street 
in  the  "  ratteen  suit  lined  with  satin,  and  bloom-colored 
silk  breeches,"  tlie  clothes  belonged  to  liis  tailor,  and 
remained  unpaid  till  his  death. 

»  Forster,  "Life  of  Goldsmitli,"  ctl.  18G3,  p.  41. 


29-i  Goldsmitlis  Dehis.  [chap.  xiii. 

Prosperity  increased  Iiis  difficulties  rather  than  di- 
minished them ;  the  more  money  he  had,  the  more 
thoughtless  and  lavish  was  his  expenditure.  He  could 
refuse  no  indulgence,  either  to  himself  or  others.  He 
would  borrow  a  guinea  and  give  it  to  a  beggar.  He 
would  give  the  clothes  off  his  back  and  the  blankets 
off  his  bed.  He  could  refuse  nobody.  To  meet  his 
thoughtless  expenditure,  he  raised  money  by  promising 
to  write  books  which  he  never  began.  He  was  perpet- 
ually discounting  to-morrow,  and  mortgaging  an  estate 
already  overburdened.  Thus  he  died,  as  he  had  begun, 
poor,  embarrassed,  and  in  debt.  At  his  death  he  owed 
over  two  thousand  pounds.  "  Was  ever  poet,"  says 
Johnson,  "  so  trusted  before  ?" 

The  case  of  Goldsmith  and  others  has  been  cited  as 
instances  of  the  harsh  treatment  of  genius  by  the  world, 
and  in  proof  of  the  social  disabilities  of  literary  men 
and  artists.  It  has  been  held  that  society  should  be 
more  indulgent  to  its  men  of  genius,  and  that  Govern- 
ment should  do  something  more  for  them  than  it  now 
does.  But  nothing  that  society  or  Government  could 
do  for  men  of  genius  would  be  likely  to  prove  of  any 
service  to  them,  unless  they  will  do  what  otlier  and  less 
gifted  men  do — exliibit  self-respect  and  practice  ordi- 
nary economy.  We  may  pity  poor  Goldsmith,  but  we 
can  not  fail  to  see  that  he  Avas  throughout  his  own  en- 
emy. His  gains  were  large,  amounting  to  about  eight 
thousand  pounds  in  fourteen  years ;  representing  a 
much  larger  sum  of  money  at  the  present  day.  For 
bis  "History  of  the  Earth  and  Animated  Nature"  he 
received  eight  hundred  and  fifty  pounds ;  and  the  book 
was,  at  best,  but  a  clever  compilation.  Johnson  said 
of  him  that  "  if  he  can  tell  a  horse  from  a  cow,  that  is 
the  extent  of  his  knowledge  of  zoology."  The  repre- 
sentation of  his  "Good-natured  Man"  produced  him 
five  hundred  pounds.     And  so  on  with  his  other  works. 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Byron.  295 

He  was  as  successful  as  Johnson  was;  but,  then, he  had 
not  Johnson's  sobriety,  self-restraint,  and  self-resj3ect. 

Yet  Goldsmith,  in  his  thoughtful  moments,  knew  the 
right  path,  though  he  had  not  the  courage  to  pursue 
it.  In  a  letter  to  his  brother  Henry  respecting  the 
career  of  his  son.  Goldsmith  wrote:  "Teach,  my  dear 
sir,  to  your  son,  thrift  and  economy.  Let  his  poor 
wandering  uncle's  example  be  placed  before  his  eyes. 
I  had  learned  from  books  to  be  disinterested  and  gen- 
erous before  I  was  taught  from  experience  the  necessity 
of  being  prudent.  I  had  contracted  the  habit's  and  no- 
tions of  a  philosopher,  v/hile  I  was  exposing  myself  to 
the  insidious  approaclies  of  cunning;  and  often  by  be- 
ing, even  with  my  narrow  finances,  charitable  to  excess, 
I  forgot  the  rules  of  justice,  and  placed  myself  in  the 
very  situation  of  the  wretch  wlio  tlianked  me  for  my 
bounty." 

Byron  had  scarcely  reached  manhood  when  he  be- 
came involved  in  debt.  Writing  to  Mr.  Becher,  in  his 
twentieth  year,  lie  said,  ^''Eatre  oioiis^  I  am  cursedly 
dipped  ;  my  debts,  every  thing  inclusive,  will  be  nine 
or  ten  thousand  before  I  am  twenty -one."  On  his 
coming  of  age,  the  festivities  at  Newstead  were  cele- 
brated by  means  supplied  by  money-lenders  at  enor- 
mously usurious  rates  of  interest.  His  difficulties  did 
not  diminish,  but  only  increased  with  time.  It  is  said 
that  his  mother's  death  was  occasioned  by  a  fit  of  rage, 
brought  on  by  reading  the  upholsterer's  bills.*  Wlieu 
the  first  canto  of  "Childe  Harold"  was  published, 
Byron  presented  tlie  copyright  to  Mr.  Dallas,  declaring 
that  he  would  never  receive  money  for  his  writings 
— a  resolution  wliicli  he  afterward  wisely  abandoned. 
But  his  earnings  by  literature  at  that  time  could  not 
have  lightened  the  heavy  load  of  debt  under  which  he 

♦  Moore,  "Life  of  Byron, "ed.  18G0,  p.  127. 


296  Byron^s  Belts.  [chap.  xiii. 

staggered.  ISTewstead  was  sold,  and  still  the  load  ac- 
cumulated. Then  he  married,  probably  in  the  expec- 
tation that  his  wife's  fortune  would  release  hira ;  but 
her  money  was  locked  up,  and  the  step,  instead  of  re- 
lieving him,  brought  only  an  accession  of  misery. 
Every  one  knows  the  sad  result  of  the  union,  which 
was  aggravated  by  the  increasing  assaults  of  duns  and 
sheriffs'  officers. 

Byron  was  almost  driven  to  sell  the  copyright  of 
his  books,  but  he  was  prevented  from  doing  so  by  his 
publisher,  who  pressed  upon  him  a  sum  of  money  to 
meet  his  temporary  wants.  During  the  first  year  of 
his  marriage,  his  house  was  nine  times  in  the  possession 
of  bailiffs,  his  door  was  almost  daily  beset  by  duns,  and 
he  was  only  saved  from  jail  by  the  privileges  of  his 
rank.  All  this,  to  a  sensitive  nature  such  as  his,  must 
have  been  gall  and  bitterness ;  while  his  wife's  separa- 
tion from  him,  which  shortly  followed,  could  not  fail 
to  push  him  almost  to  the  point  of  frenzy.  Although 
he  had  declined  to  receive  money  for  his  first  poems, 
Byron  altered  his  views,  and  even  learned  to  drive  a 
pretty  hard  bargain  with  his  publisher.*  But  Moore 
does  not,  in  his  biography  of  the  poet,  inform  us  wheth- 
er he  ever  got  rid,  except  by  death,  of  his  grievous 
turmoil  of  debt. 

There  is  the  greatest  difference  in  the  manner  in 
which  men  bear  the  burden  of  debt.  Some  feel  it  to 
be  no  burden  at  all ;  others  bear  it  very  lightly ;  while 


*  "Yon  offer  one  thousand  five  hundred  guineas  for  the  new  Canto 
[the  fourth  of  "Childe  Harold"] :  I  won't  take  it.  I  ask  two  thou- 
sand five  hundred  guineas  for  it,  which  you  will  either  give  or  not  as 

you  think  proper If  Mr.  Eustace  was  to  have  two  thousand  for 

a  poem  on  Education ;  if  Mr.  Moore  is  to  have  three  thousand  for 
'Lalia;'  if  Mr.  Campbell  is  to  have  three  thousand  for  his  prose  or 
poetry — I  don't  mean  to  disparage  these  gentlemen  or  their  labors — 
but  I  ask  the  aforesaid  price  for  mine." — Lord  Byron  to  Mr.  Mur- 
ray, September  ith,  1817. 


CHAP.  XIII.]  The  Burden  of  Debt.  297 

others  look  upon  creditors  in  the  light  of  persecutors, 
and  themselves  in  the  light  of  martyrs.  But  where 
the  moral  sense  is  a  little  more  keen ;  where  men  use 
the  goods  of  others,  without  rendering  the  due  equiv- 
alent of  money;  where  tliey  wear  unpaid  clothes,  eat 
unpaid  meat,  drink  unpaid  wines,  and  entertain  guests 
at  the  expense  of  the  butcher,  grocer,  wine-merchant, 
and  green-grocer — they  must  necessarily  feel  that  their 
conduct  is  of  the  essence,  not  only  of  shabbiness,  but 
of  dishonesty,  and  the  burden  must  then  bear  very 
heavily  indeed. 

Of  light-hearted  debtors,  the  proportion  is  consider- 
able. Thus  Theophilus  Gibber,  when  drowned  in  debt, 
begged  the  loan  of  a  guinea,  and  spent  it  on  a  dish  of 
ortolans.  Thus  Foote,  when  his  mother  wrote  to  him, 
"Dear  Sam,  I  am  in  prison  for  debt;  come  and  help 
your  loving  mother,"  replied,  "Dear  Mother,  so  am  I, 
which  prevents  his  duty  being  paid  to  his  loving  moth- 
er by  her  affectionate  son."  Steele  and  Sheridan  both 
bore  the  load  lightly.  When  entertaining  company, 
they  put  the  bailiffs  who  were  in  possession  in  livery, 
and  made  them  wait  at  table,  passing  them  off  as  serv- 
ants. Nothing  disturbed  Steele's  equanimity;  and 
when  driven  from  London  by  debt,  he  carried  his  gen- 
erosity into  the  country,  giving  prizes  to  the  lads  and 
lasses  assembled  at  rural  games  and  country  dances. 
Sheridan  also  made  very  light  of  his  debts,  and  had 
many  a  good  joke  over  them.  Some  one  asked  him 
how  it  was  that  the  O'  was  not  prefixed  to  his  name, 
when  he  replied  that  he  was  sure  no  family  had  a  bet- 
ter right  to  it,  "  for,  in  truth,  we  oice  every  body." 
And  when  a  creditor  once  apologized  for  the  soiled  and 
tattered  state  of  a  bill,  which  had  been  much  worn  by 
being  so  often  presented,  Sheridan  advised  him,  "as  a 
friend,  to  take  it  home  and  write  it  upon  parchment?'' 

Very  different  was  it  in  the  case  of  poor  Burns,  who 

13* 


298  Sydney  Smith.  [CHAP.  xiii. 

was  almost  driven  distracted  because  he  owed  a  debt 
of  seven  pounds  four  shillings  for  a  volunteer's  uni- 
form, which  he  could  not  pay.  He  sent  to  his  friend 
Thomson,  tlie  publisher  of  his  songs,  imploring  the 
loan  of  five  pounds,  promising  full  value  in  "  song-gen- 
ius."* His  last  poem  was  a  "love  song,"  in  part  pajj-- 
ment  of  the  loan,  which  he  composed  only  a  iew  days 
before  his  death. 

Sydney  Smith  had  a  severe  struggle  with  poverty  in 
the  early  part  of  his  life.  He  had  a  poor  living,  a  wide 
parish,  and  a  large  family.  His  daughter  says  that 
his  debts  occasioned  him  many  sleepless  nights,  and 
that  she  has  seen  him  in  an  evening,  when  bill  aft- 
er bill  has  poured  in  (carefully  examining  them,  and 
gradually  paying  them  off),  quite  overcome  by  the 
feeling  of  the  debt  hanging  over  him,  cover  his  face 
with  his  hands,  and  exclaim,  "Ah !  I  see  I  shall  end 
my  old  age  in  a  jail."f  But  he  bore  up  bravely  un- 
der the  burden,  laboring  onward  with  a  cheerful  heart, 
eking  out  his  slender  means  by  writing  articles  for 
the  Edinburgh^  until  at  length  promotion  reached  him, 
and  he  reaped  the  reward  of  his  perseverance,  his  in- 
dustry, and  his  independence. 

De  Foe's  life  was  a  long  battle  with  difficulty  and 
debt.  He  was  constantly  involved  in  broils,  mostly 
of  his  own  stirring  up.  He  was  a  fierce  pamphleteer 
from  his  youth  up;  and  was  never  for  a  moment  at 

*  "After  all  my  boasted  independence,"  he  said,  "curst  necessity- 
compels  me  to  implore  you  for  five  pounds.  A  cruel  scoundrel  of  a 
haberdasher,  to  whom  I  owe  an  account,  taking  it  into  his  head  that 
I  am  dying,  has  commenced  a  process,  and  will  infallibly  put  me  in 
jail.  Do,  for  God's  sake,  send  me  that  sum,  and  by  return  of  post. 
Forgive  me  this  earnestness ;  but  the  horrors  of  a  jail  have  made  me 
half  distracted.  I  do  not  ask  all  this  gratuitously ;  for  upon  return- 
ing health  I  promise  and  engage  to  furnish  you  with  five  pounds' 
worth  of  the  neatest  song-genius  you  have  seen." — Burns  to  Thomson^ 
July  12M,  1796.     Burns  died  on  the  21st  of  the  same  month. 

t  Lady  Holland,  "Memoir  of  the  Rev.  Sydney  Smith,"  vol.  i.,  p.  206. 


CHAP.  XIII.]  De  Foe  and  Southey.  299 

rest.  He  was  by  turns  a  soldier  with  the  Duke  of 
Monmouth,  a  pantile  maker,  a  projector,  a  poet,  a  polit- 
ical agent,  a  novelist,  an  essayist,  a  historian.  He  was 
I'amiliar  with  the  pillory,  and  spent  much  of  his  time 
in  jail.  When  reproached  by  one  of  his  adversaries 
with  mercenariness,  he  piteously  declared  how  he  had, 
"in  the  pursuit  of  peace,  brought  himself  into  innumer- 
able broils;"  how  he  had  been  "  sued  for  other  men's 
debts,  and  stripped  naked  by  public  opinion,  of  what 
should  have  enabled  him  to  pay  his  own;"  how  "  with 
a  numerous  family,  and  with  no  helps  but  his  own  in- 
dustry, he  had  forced  his  way,  with  undiscouraged  dil- 
igence, through  a  sea  of  debt  and  misfortune,"  and  "  in 
jails,  in  retreats,  and  in  all  manner  of  extremities,  sup- 
ported himself  without  the  assistance  of  friends  and  re- 
lations." Surely  there  never  was  such  a  life  of  strug- 
gle and  of  difficulty  as  that  of  the  indefatigable  De 
Foe.  Yet  all  his  literary  labors,  and  they  were  enor- 
mous, did  not  suffice  to  keep  him  clear  of  debt,  for  it  is 
believed  that  he  died  insolvent.* 

Southey  was,  in  his  own  line,  almost  as  laborious  a 
writer  as  De  Foe ;  though  his  was  the  closet  life  of  the 
student,  and  not  the  aggressive  life  of  the  polemic. 
Though  he  knew  debt,  it  never  became  his  master;  and 
from  an  early  period  in  his  career  he  determined  not 
to  contract  a  debt  that  he  was  not  able  to  discharge. 
He  was  not  only  enabled  to  do  this,  but  to  help  liis 
friends  liberally — maintaining  for  a  time  the  families 
of  his  brothers-in-law,  Coleridge  and  Lovell — by  sim- 
ply not  allowing  himself  any  indulgences  beyond  his 
actual  means,  though  these  were  often  very  straitened. 
The  burden  he  carried  would  have  borne  down  a  man 
less  brave  and  resolute;  but  he  worked,  and  studied, 
and  wrote,  and  earned  money  enough  for  all  his  own 

•  George  Chalmers,  "Life  of  De  Foe,"  p.  02. 


300  iSir  Walter  Scott.  [CHAP.  Xlll. 

wants,  as  well  as  the  wants  of  those  who  had  become 
dependent  upon  hhu.  He  held  on  his  noble  way  with- 
out a  murmur  or  complaint.  He  not  only  liberally 
helped  his  relatives,  but  his  old  school-fellows  in  dis- 
tress. He  took  Coleridge's  wife  and  family  to  live 
with  him,  at  a  time  when  Coleridge  had  abandoned 
himself  to  opium -drinking.  To  meet  the  numerous 
claims  upon  him,  Southey  merely  imposed  upon  him- 
self so  much  extra  labor.  He  was  always  ready  with 
good  advice  to  young  men  who  sought  his  help.  Thus 
he  encouraged  Kirke  White,  Herbert  Knowles,  and 
Dusantoy,  all  of  whom  died  young  and  full  of  prom- 
ise. He  not  only  helped  them  with  advice  andencour- 
agement,  but  with  money ;  and  his  timely  assistance 
rescued  the  sister  of  Chatterton  from  absolute  want. 
And  thus  he  worked  on  nobly  and  unselfishly  to  tho 
last — finding  happiness  and  joy  in  the  pursuit  of  let- 
ters— "  not  so  learned  as  poor,  not  so  poor  as  proud, 
not  so  proud  as  happy."     These  were  his  own  words. 

The  most  touching  story  in  Sir  Walter  Scott's  life 
is  the  manner  in  Avhich  he  conducted  himself  after  the 
failure  of  the  publishing  house  of  Constable  &  Co., 
with  which  he  had  become  deeply  involved.  He  had 
built  Abbotsford,  become  a  laird,  was  sheriff  of  his 
county,  and  thought  himself  a  ricli  man  ;  when  sudden- 
ly the  Constable  firm  broke  down,  and  he  found  him- 
self indebted  to  the  world  more  than  a  hundred  thou- 
sand pounds.  "  It  is  very  hard,"  he  said,  when  the  un- 
toward news  reached  him, "  thus  to  lose  all  the  labor 
of  a  life-time,  and  to  be  made  a  poor  man  at  last.  But 
if  God  grant  me  health  and  strength  for  a  few  years 
longer,  I  have  no  doubt  that  I  shall  redeem  it  all." 
Every  body  thought  him  a  ruined  man,  and  he  almost 
felt  himself  to  be  bo.  But  his  courage  never  gave 
way.  When  his  creditors  proposed  to  him  a  composi- 
tion, his  sense  of  honor  forbade  his  listening  to  them. 


CHAP.  XIII.]      Scoifs  Belts  and  Labors.  301 

"No,  gentlemen,"  he  replied  ;  "Time  and  I  against  any 
two."  Though  the  debts  had  been  contracted  by  oth- 
ers, he  had  made  himself  legally  responsible  for  them ; 
and,  strong  in  his  principle  of  integrity,  he  determined, 
if  he  could,  to  pay  them  off  to  the  last  farthing.  And 
he  set  himself  to  do  it ;  but  it  cost  him  his  life. 

He  parted  with  his  town  house  and  furniture,  de- 
livered over  his  personal  effects  to  be  held  in  trust  for 
his  creditors,  and  bound  himself  to  discharge  a  certain 
amount  of  his  liabilities  annually.  This  he  did  by  un- 
dertaking new  literary  works,  some  of  them  of  great 
magnitude,  the  execution  of  which,  though  they  ena- 
bled him  to  discharge  a  large  portion  of  his  debt,  add- 
ed but  little  to  his  reputation.  One  of  his  first  tasks 
was  his  "Life  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte"  in  nine  vol- 
umes, which  he  wrote,  in  the  midst  of  pain,  sorrow,  and 
ruin,  in  about  thirteen  months — receiving  for  it  about 
fourteen  thousand  pounds.  Even  though  struck  by 
paralysis,  he  went  on  writing,  until  in  about  four  years 
he  had  discharged  about  two -thirds  of  the  debt  for 
which  he  was  responsible  —  an  achievement  probably 
unparalleled  in  the  history  of  letters. 

The  sacrifices  and  efforts  which  he  made  during  the 
last  few  years  of  his  life,  even  while  paralyzed  and 
scarcely  able  to  hold  his  pen,  exhibit  Scott  in  a  truly 
heroic  light.  He  bore  up  with  unconquerable  spirit 
to  the  last.  When  his  doctor  expostulated  with  him 
against  his  excessive  brain-work,  he  replied,  "If  I  were 
to  be  idle,  I  should  go  mad :  in  comparison  to  this, 
death  is  no  risk  to  shrink  from."  Shortly  before  his 
last  fatal  attack,  when  sitting  dozing  in  his  chair  on 
the  grass  in  front  of  the  house  at  Abbotsford,  he  sud- 
denly roused  himself,  threw  off  the  plaids  which  cov- 
ered him,  and  exclaimed,  "This  is  sad  idleness.  Take 
me  to  my  own  room,  and  fetch  the  keys  of  my  desk. 
They  wheeled  him  into  liis  study,  and  put  pens  and 


302  Great  Poor  Men.  [chap.  xiii. 

paper  before  liira.  But  he  could  not  grasp  the  pen; 
lie  could  not  write;  and  the  tears  rolled  down  his 
cheeks.  His  spirit  was  not  conquered ;  but  his  bodily 
powers  were  exhausted  and  shattered ;  and  when  at 
length  he  died,  he  fell  asleep  like  a  child. 

Scott  felt,  what  every  sensitive  nature  must  feel, 
that  poverty  is  a  much  lighter  burden  to  bear  than 
debt.  There  is  nothing  ignominious  about  poverty. 
It  may  even  serve  as  a  healthy  stimulus  to  great  spir- 
its. "  Under  gold  mountains  and  thrones,"  said  Jean 
Paul, "  lie  buried  many  spiritual  giants."  Richter  even 
held  that  poverty  was  to  be  welcomed,  so  that  it  came 
not  too  late  in  life.  And  doubtless  Scott's  burden  was 
all  the  heavier  to  bear  because  it  came  upon  him  in  his 
declining  years. 

Shakspeare  was  originally  a  poor  man.  "It  is  a 
question,"  says  Carlyle,  "whether,  had  not  want,  dis- 
comfort, and  distress  -  warrants  been  busy  at  Strat- 
ford-on-Avon,  Shakspeare  had  not  lived  killing  calves 
or  combing  wool !"  To  Milton's  and  Dryden's  nar- 
row means  we  probably  owe  the  best  part  of  their 
works. 

Johnson  was  a  very  poor  man,  and  a  very  brave  one. 
He  never  knew  what  wealth  was.  His  mind  was  al- 
ways greater  than  his  fortune ;  and  it  is  the  mind  that 
makes  the  man  rich  or  poor,  happy  or  miserable.  John- 
son's gruff  and  bluff  exterior  covered  a  manly  and  no- 
ble nature.  He  had  early  known  poverty  and  debt, 
and  wished  himself  clear  of  both.  When  at  college,  his 
feet  appeared  through  his  shoes,  but  he  was  too  poor 
to  buy  new  ones.  His  head  was  full  of  learning,  but 
his  pockets  were  empty.  How  he  struggled  through 
distress  and  difficulty  during  his  first  years  in  London, 
the  reader  can  learn  from  his  "Life."  He  bedded  and 
boarded  for  fourpence-half-penny  a  day,  and  when  too 
poor  to  pay  for  a  bed,  he  wandered  with  Savage  whole 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Johnson's  Advice.  803 

nights  in  the  streets.*  He  struggled  on  manfully, 
never  whining  at  his  lot,  but  trying  to  make  the  best 
of  it. 

These  early  sorrows  and  struggles  of  Johnson  left 
their  scars  upon  his  nature;  but  they  also  enlarged 
and  enriched  liis  experience,  as  well  as  widened  his 
range  of  human  sympathy.  Even  when  in  his  great- 
est distress  he  had  room  in  his  heart  for  others  whose 
necessities  were  greater  than  his  own ;  and  he  was 
never  wanting  in  his  help  to  those  who  needed  it,  or 
were  poorer  than  himself. 

From  his  sad  experience,  no  one  could  speak  with 
greater  authority  on  the  subject  of  debt  than  Johnson. 
"Do  not  accustom  yourself,"  he  wrote  to  Boswell,  "  to 
consider  debt  only  an  inconvenience;  you  will  find  it 
a  calamity.  Let  it  be  your  first  care  not  to  be  in  any 
man's  debt.  Whatever  you  have,  spend  less.  Frugal- 
ity is  not  only  the  basis  of  quiet,  but  of  beneficence." 
To  Simpson,  the  barrister,  he  wrote, "Small  debts  are 
like  small  shot;  they  are  rattling  on  every  side,  and 
can  scarcely  be  escaped  without  a  wound :  great  debts 
are  like  cannon,  of  loud  noise,  but  little  danger.  You 
must  therefore  be  enabled  to  discharge  petty  debts, 
that  you  may  have  leisure,  with  security,  to  struggle 
with  the  rest."  "Sir,"  said  he  to  the  patient  and  re- 
ceptive Boswell,  "get  as  much  peace  of  mind  as  you 
can,  and  keep  within  your  income,  and  you  won't  go 
far  wrong." 

Men  who  live  by  their  wits,  their  talents,  or  their 
genius,  have,  somehow  or  other,  acquired  the  character 

*  "  lie  said  a  man  might  live  in  a  j;anet  at  eighteen-pence  a  week  ; 
few  peo])Ic  would  inquire  where  he  lodged  ;  and  if  they  did,  it  was 
easy  to  sny,  'Sir,  I  am  to  be  found  at  such  a  place.'  By  sjiending 
threepence  in  a  coflfee-houpe,  he  might  be  for  some  hours  every  day  in 
very  good  company;  he  miglit  dine  for  sixpence,  breakfast  on  bread- 
and-milk  for  a  penny,  and  do  without  supper.  On  clean-shirt  day  he 
went  abroad  and  paid  visits." — Boswell,  Life  of  Johnson. 


804:  Genius  and  Debt.  [CHAP.  xiii. 

of  being  improvident.  Charles  Nodier,  writing  about 
a  distinguished  genius,  said  of  liira,  "In  the  life  of  in- 
telligence and  art,  he  was  an  angel ;  in  the  common 
practical  life  of  every  day,  he  was  a  child."  The  same 
might  be  said  of  many  great  writers  and  artists.  The 
greatest  of  them  have  been  so  devoted — heart  and  soul 
— to  their  special  work,  that  they  have  not  cared  to 
think  how  the  efforts  of  their  genius  might  be  con- 
verted into  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence.  Had  they 
placed  the  money  consideration  first,  probably  the 
world  would  not  have  inherited  the  products  of  their 
genius.  Milton  would  not  have  labored  for  so  many 
years  at  his  "  Paradise  Lost,"  merely  for  the  sake  of 
the  five  pounds  for  which  he  sold  the  first  edition  to 
the  publisher.  Nor  would  Schiller  have  gone  on  toil- 
ing for  twenty  years  ujd  to  the  topmost  pinnacles  of 
thought,  merely  for  the  sake  of  the  bare  means  of  liv- 
ing which  he  earned  by  his  work. 

At  the  same  time,  men  of  genius  should  not  disre- 
gard the  common  rules  of  arithmetic.  If  they  spend 
more  than  they  earn,  they  will  run  into  debt.  Nor 
will  complaining  of  the  harshness  of  the  world  keep 
them  out  of  it.  Thej^  have  to  stand  or  fall  on  their 
merits  as  men  ;  and  if  they  are  not  provident,  they  will 
suffer  tlie  same  consequences  as  others.  Thackeray, 
in  painting  the  character  of  Captain  Shandon,  in  his 
"Pendennis,"  gave  considerable  offense  to  the  literary 
jDrofession ;  yet  he  only  spoke  the  truth.  "  If  a  law- 
yer," said  he,  "  or  a  soldier,  or  a  parson,  outruns  his  in- 
come, and  does  not  pay  his  bills,  he  must  go  to  jail ; 
and  an  author  must  go  too." 

Literary  men  are  not  neglected  because  they  are  lit- 
erary men.  But  they  have  no  right  to  expect  that  so- 
ciety will  overlook  their  social  offenses  because  they 
are  literary  men.  It  is  necessary  for  the  world's  sake, 
as  well  as  for  their  own  sake,  that  literary  men  and 


CHAP.  XIII.]  Literary  Men.  805 

artists  should  take  care  to  *' provide  against  the  evil 
day"  like  other  people.  "Imagination  and  art,"  says 
Madame  de  Stael, "  have  need  to  look  after  their  own 
comfort  and  happiness  in  this  world."  The  world 
ought  to  help  them  generously ;  all  good  men  ought  to 
help  them  ;  but,  what  is  better  than  all,  they  ought  to 
help  themselves. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


RICHES   AND   CHARITY. 


' '  Who !  who !  Avho's  here  ? 
I,  Robert  of  Doncaster. 
That  I  spent,  that  I  had  ; 
That  I  gave,  that  I  have ; 
That  I  left,  that  I  lost." 

Epitaph,  A.D.  1579. 

"  If  thou  art  rich,  thou  art  poor  ; 
For,  like  an  ass,  whose  back  with  ihgots  bows, 
Thou  bear'st  thy  heavy  riches  but  a  journey, 
And  death  unloads  thee." — Shakspeare. 

*'I1  est  bon  d'etre  charitable, 
Mais  envers  qui  ?    C'est  la  le  point." — La  Fontaine. 

"There  are  many  idlers  to  whom  a  penny  begged  is  sweeter  than  a 
shilling  earned." — Douglas  Jerrold, 

"He  stole  a  pig,  and  in  God's  name  gave  the  trotters  to  the  poor." 
— From  the  Spanish. 

AN"  must  be  thrifty  in  order  to  be  generous. 
Thrift  does  not  end  with  itself,  but  extends  its 
benefits  to  others.  It  founds  hospitals,  endows  chari- 
ties, establishes  colleges,  and  extends  educational  influ- 
ences. Benevolence  springs  from  the  best  qualities  of 
the  mind  and  heart.  Its  divine  spirit  elevates  the  ben- 
efactors of  the  world  —  the  Howards,  Clarksons,  and 
Xaviers — to  the  highest  pedestals  of  moral  genius  and 
of  national  worship. 

The  same  feeling  pervades  our  common  humanity. 
The  poorest  man,  the  daily  worker,  the  obscurest  indi- 
vidual, shares  the  gift  and  the  blessing  of  doing  good 
— a  blessing  that  imparts  no  less  delight  to  him  who 
gives  than  to  him  who  receives. 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Helping  the  Helpless.  807 

*'  Man  is  dear  to  man  :  the  poorest  poor 
Long  for  some  moments,  in  a  weary  life, 
When  they  can  know  and  feel  that  they  have  been 
Themselves  the  fathers  and  the  dealers-out 
Of  some  small  blessings ;   have  been  kind  to  such 
As  needed  kindness,  for  this  single  cause, 
That  we  have  all  of  us  one  human  heart." 

The  duty  of  helping  the  helpless  is  one  that  speaks 
trumpet-tongued ;  but  especially  to  those  who  profess 
love  to  God  and  good-will  to  men.  It  is  a  duty  that 
belongs  to  men  as  individuals,  and  as  members  of  the 
social  body.  As  individuals,  because  we  are  enjoined 
to  help  the  widow  and  the  fatherless  in  their  affliction  ; 
and  as  members  of  the  social  body,  because  society 
claims  of  every  man  that  he  shall  be  a  helper  in  the 
cause  of  progress  and  of  social  well-being. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  men  should  be  rich  to  be 
helpful  to  others.  John  Pounds  was  not  a  rich  man ; 
yet  by  his  influence  ragged  schools  were  established. 
He  was  temperate,  and  saved  enough  from  his  earn- 
ings to  buy  food  for  his  pupils.  He  attracted  them  by 
his  kindness,  sometimes  by  a  "  hot  potato ;"  he  taught 
them,  and  sent  them  out  into  the  world,  fortified  by 
his  good  example,  to  work  in  it,  and  do  their  duty 
toward  it.  Nor  was  Joseph  Lancaster,  the  founder 
of  Sunday  and  other  schools,  a  rich  man ;  neither  was 
Thomas  Wright,  the  prison  philanthropist.  Nor  were 
St.  Vincent  de  Paul  and  Father  Mathew  —  the  pro- 
moters of  education  and  temperance.  Nor  were  the 
great  men  of  science  —  Newton,  Watt,  and  Faraday; 
nor  the  great  missionaries  —  Xavier,  Martyn,  Carey, 
and  Livingstone. 

A  fine  instance  of  gentleness  and  generosity  is  re- 
corded in  Walton's  memoir  of  Dr.  Donne.  When  the 
latter,  long  straitened  in  his  means,  had  entered  upon 
the  deanery  of  St.  Paul's,  and  was  thereby  provided 
with  an  income  more  than  sufficient  for  all  his  wants, 


808  Dr.  Donne.  [chap.  xiv. 

lie  felt  tbat  those  means  had  been  intrnsted  to  him 
for  good  uses,  and  to  employ  for  human  help  and  to 
the  glory  of  the  Giver  thereof.  At  the  foot  of  a  pri- 
vate account,  "  to  which  God  and  his  angels  only 
were  witnesses  with  him,"  Dr.  Donne  computed  first 
his  revenue,  then  what  was  given  to  the  poor  and 
other  pious  uses,  and,  lastly,  what  rested  for  him  and 
his ;  and  having  done  that,  he  then  blessed  each  year's 
poor  remainder  with  a  thankful  prayer. 

Dr.  Donne  did  most  of  his  good  in  secret,  letting 
not  his  right  hand  know  what  his  left  hand  did.  He 
redeemed  many  poor  from  prison,  helped  many  a  poor 
scholar,  and  employed  a  trusty  servant  or  a  discreet 
friend  to  distribute  his  bounty  where  it  was  most 
needed.  A  friend  whom  he  had  known  in  days  of 
affluence,  having  by  a  too  liberal  heart  and  careless- 
ness become  decayed  in  his  estate  and  reduced  to  pov- 
erty, Donne  sent  him  a  hundred  pounds.  But  the  de- 
cayed gentleman  returned  it  with  thanks,  saying  that 
he  wanted  it  not;  for,  says  Walton,  in  narrating  the 
event,  "  as  there  be  some  spirits  so  generous  as  to  labor 
to  conceal  and  endure  a  sad  poverty,  rather  than  ex- 
pose themselves  to  those  blushes  that  attend  the  con- 
fession of  it,  so  there  be  others  to  whom  nature  and 
grace  have  aiforded  such  sweet  and  compassionate 
souls  as  to  pity  and  prevent  the  distresses  of  mankind  ; 
which  I  have  mentioned  because  of  Dr.  Donne's  reply, 
whose  answer  was, '  I  know  you  want  not  what  will 
sustain  nature,  for  a  little  will  do  that ;  but  my  desire 
is  that  you,  who  in  the  days  of  your  plenty  have  cheer- 
ed and  raised  the  hearts  of  so  many  of  your  dejected 
friends,  would  now  receive  this  from  me,  and  use  it 
as  a  cordial  for  the  cheering  of  your  own ;'  "  and  upon 
these  terms  it  was  received. 

The  truth  is,  that  we  very  much  exaggerate  the 
power  of  riches.     Immense  subscriptions  are  got  up 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Rich  People.  809 

for  tlie  purpose  of  reforming  men  from  their  sinful 
courses,  and  turning  tliem  from  evil  to  good.  And 
yet  subscriptions  will  not  do  it.  It  is  character  that 
can  do  the  work;  money  never  can.  Great  changes 
in  society  can  never  be  effected  through  riches.  To 
turn  men  from  intemperance,  improvidence,  and  irre- 
ligion,  and  to  induce  them  to  seek  their  happiness  in 
the  pursuit  of  proper  and  noble  objects,  requires  earnest 
purpose,  honest  self-devotion,  and  hard  work.  Money 
may  help  in  many  respects;  but  money  by  itself  can 
do  nothing.  The  apostle  Paul  planted  the  knowledge 
of  the  Christian  religion  over  half  the  Roman  empire; 
yet  he  supported  himself  by  tent-making,  and  not  by 
collecting  subscriptions.  Men  of  anxious,  earnest, 
honest  hearts  are  far  more  wanted  than  rich  men — 
willing  to  give  money  in  charity. 

Nothing  is  so  much  overestimated  as  the  power  of 
money.  All  the  people  who  are  looking  out  for  front 
seats  in" society "tliink  it  the  one  thing  needful.  They 
may  be  puKse- liberal,  but  they  are  also  purse-proud. 
The  hypocritical  professions  of  some  people,  with  a 
view  to  elicit  the  good  opinion  of  others,  in  the  teeth 
of  their  daily  life  and  practice,  are  nothing  short  of  dis- 
gusting. "Oh,  Geordie,  jingling  Geordie,"  said  King 
James,  in  the  novel, "  it  was  grand  to  hear  Baby  Charles 
laying  down  the  guilt  of  dissimulation,  and  Steenie 
lecturing  on  the  turpitude  of  incontinence  !" 

Some  people  have  an  idolatrous  worship  of  money. 
The  Israelites  had  their  golden  calf;  the  Greeks  had 
their  golden  Jupiter.  Old  Bounderby  valued  the  man 
who  was  worth  a  "hundred  thousand  pounds."  Others 
do  the  same.  The  lowest  human  nature  loves  money, 
possessions,  value.  "  What  is  he  worth  ?"  "  What  is 
his  income  ?"  are  the  usual  questions.  If  you  say, 
"  There  is  a  thoroughly  good,  benevolent,  virtuous 
man !"  nobody  will  notice  him.     But  if  you  say, "There 


810  Love  of  Gold.  [chap.  xiv. 

is  a  man  worth  a  million  of  money !"  lie  will  be  stared 
at  till  ont  of  sight.  A  crowd  of  people  lised  to  collect 
at  Hyde  Park  Corner  to  see  a  rich  man  pass.  "  Here 
comes  old  Crockie !"  and  the  crowd  would  separate  to 
allow  him  to  pass,  amidst  whispers  of  admiration.  It 
was  old  Crockford,  who  made  a  large  fortune  by  keep- 
ing a  gambling-house. 

"  The  very  sound  of  millions,"  says  Mrs.  Gore,* 
"  tickles  the  ear  of  an  Englishman !  He  loves  it  so 
much,  indeed,  that  it  all  but  reconciles  him  to  the  na- 
tional debt ;  and  when  applied  to  private  proprietor- 
ship, it  secures  deference  for  lowness  of  mind,  birth, 

habits,  and  pursuits Ambition  and  mone5''-love, 

if  they  tend  to  ennoble  a  country,  reduce  to  insignifi- 
cance the  human  particles  of  which  the  nation  is  com- 
posed. In  their  pursuit  of  riches,  the  English  are  grad- 
ually losing  sight  of  higher  characteristics;....  our 
pursuit  of  railway  bubbles  and  every  other  frantic 
speculation  of  the  hour  affords  sufiicient  evidence  of 
the  craving  after  capital  superseding  every  better  as- 
piration, whether  for  this  world  or  the  next." 

The  love  of  gold  threatens  to  drive  every  thing  be- 
fore it.  The  pursuit  of  money  has  become  the  settled 
custom  of  the  country.  Many  are  so  absorbed  by  it 
that  every  other  kind  of  well-being  is  either  lost  sight 
of,  or  altogether  undervalued.  And  then  the  lovers  of 
money  think  to  recover  their  moral  tone  by  bestowing 
charity !  Mountains  of  gold  weigh  heavily  upon  the 
heart  and  soul.  The  man  who  can  withstand  the 
weight  of  riches,  and  still  be  diligent,  industrious,  and 
strong  in  mind  and  heart,  must  be  made  of  strong  stuff; 
for  people  who  are  rich  are  almost  invariably  disposed 
to  be  idle,  luxurious,  and  self-indulgent. 

"  If  money,"  said   the   Rev.  Mr.  Griffiths,  rector  of 

♦  Introduction  to  "  Men  of  Capital." 


CHAP.  XIV.]         Eagerness  io  Be  Rich.  811 

Merthyr,  "did  not  make  men  forget  men,  one-half  of 
the  evil  that  is  in  the  world  would  never  occur.  If 
masters  drew  nearer  to  the  men,  and  men  were  per- 
mitted to  draw  nearer  their  masters,  we  should  not  be 
passing  through  this  fiery  ordeal.  Let  them  do  some- 
thing to  win  the  men  out  of  the  public-houses;  let 
them  spare  more  of  their  enormous  gains  to  build 
places  of  amusement  and  recreation  for  the  people  ;  let 
them  provide  better  houses  to  live  in,  better  conven- 
iences for  decency,  better  streets ;  and  if  all  these 
things  are  done  we  shall  have  neither  lock-outs  nor 
strikes.  We  hear  with  pomp  and  triumph  of  the  mill- 
ions and  millions  that  have  been  dug  out  of  this  old 
Welsh  land  of  ours,  but  we  hear  nothing — and  we  see, 
indeed,  less — of  the  public  buildings,  the  people's  parks, 
the  public  libraries  and  public  institutions,  and  other 
civilizing  agencies.  Fifteen  months  ago,  when  we  were 
in  the  highest  tide  of  prosperity,  I  said  all  this,  and  no 
notice  was  taken  of  it.  Why  should  anj^  notice  be 
taken  of  a  preaching  parson  or  a  Christian  minister  of 
any  kind,  when  sovereigns  fly  about  like  snow-flakes 
in  winter,  or  may  be  gathered  like  blackberries  in  sum- 
mer?"* 

Men  go  on  toiling  and  moiling,  eager  to  be  richer; 
desperately  struggling,  as  if  against  poverty,  at  the 
same  time  that  they  are  surrounded  with  abundance. 
They  scrape  and  scrape,  add  shilling  to  shilling,  and 
sometimes  do  shabby  things  in  order  to  make  a  little 
more  profit;  though  they  may  have  accumulated  far 
more  than  they  can  actually  enjoy.  And  still  they  go 
on,  worrying  themselves  incessantly  in  the  endeavor 
to  grasp  at  an  additional  increase  of  superfluity.  Per- 
haps such  men  have  not  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  ed- 
ucation in  early  life.     They  have  no  literary  pleasures 

*  Sermon  preached  at  Merthyr  daring  the  South  "Wales  strike. 


312  Riches  and  Poverty.  [chap,  xiv. 

to  fall  back  upon  ;  they  have  no  taste  for  books ;  some- 
times they  can  scarcely  write  their  own  names.  They 
have  nothing  to  think  of  but  money,  and  of  what 
will  make  money.  They  have  no  faith,  but  in  riches ! 
They  keep  their  children  under  restriction,  and  bring 
them  up  with  a  servile  education. 

At  length,  an  accumulation  of  money  comes  into  the 
children's  hands.  They  have  before  been  restricted 
in  their  expenditure ;  now  they  become  lavish.  They 
have  been  educated  in  no  better  tastes.  They  spend 
extravagantly.  They  will  not  be  drudges  in  business, 
as  their  father  was.  They  will  be  "  gentlemen,"  and 
spend  their  money  "  like  gentlemen."  And  very  soon 
the  money  takes  wings  arnd  flies  away.  Many  are  the 
instances  in  which  families  have  been  raised  to  wealth 
in  the  first  generation,  launched  into  ruinous  expense  in 
the  second,  and  disappeared  in  the  third — being  again 
reduced  to  povert}^  Hence  the  Lancashire  proverb, 
"Twice  clogs,  once  boots."  The  first  man  wore  clogs, 
and  accumulated  a  "power  o'  money;"  his  rich  son 
spent  it;  and  the  third  generation  took  up  the  clogs 
again.  A  candidate  for  parliamentary  honors,  when 
speaking  from  the  hustings,  was  asked  if  he  had  plen- 
ty brass.  "Plenty  brass?"  said  he;  "ay,  I've  lots  o' 
brass  ! — I  stink  o'  brass  !" 

The  same  social  transformations  are  known  in  Scot- 
land. The  proverb  there  is,  "  The  grandsire  digs,  the 
father  bigs,  the  son  thigs  ;"*  that  is,  the  grandfather 
worked  hard  and  made  a  fortune,  the  father  built  a  fine 
house,  and  the  son,  "  an  unthrifty  son  of  Linne,"  when 
land  and  goods  were  gone  and  spent,  took  to  thieving. 
Merchants  are  sometimes  princes  to-day  and  beggars 
to-morrow;  and  so  long  as  the  genius  for  speculation 
is  exercised  by  a  mercantile  family,  the  talent  which 

*  Dublin  University  Magazine. 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Riches  in  Old  Age.  313 

gave  them  lauded  property  may  eventually  deprive 
them  of  it.  » 

To  be  happy  in  old  age — at  a  time  when  men  should 
leave  forever  the  toil,  anxiety,  and  worry  of  money- 
making —  they  must,  during  youth  and  middle  life, 
have  kept  their  minds  healthily  active.  They  must  fa- 
miliarize themselves  with  knowledge,  and  take  an  in- 
terest in  all  that  has  been  done,  and  is  doing,  to  make 
the  world  wiser  and  better  from  age  to  age.  There  is 
enough  leisure  in  most  men's  lives  to  enable  them  to 
interest  themselves  in  biography  and  history.  They 
may  also  acquire  considerable  knowledge  of  science,  or 
of  some  ennobling  pursuit  different  from  that  by  which 
money  is  made.  Mere  amusement  will  not  do.  No 
man  can  grow  happy  upon  amusement.  The  mere 
man  of  pleasure  is  a  miserable  creature,  especially  in 
old  age.  The  mere  drudge  in  business  is  little  better. 
"Whereas  the  study  of  literature,  philosophy,  and  sci- 
ence is  full  of  tranquil  pleasure,  down  to  the  end  of  life. 
If  the  rich  old  man  has  no  enjoyment  apart  from  mon- 
ey-making, his  old  age  becomes  miserable.  He  goes 
on  grinding  and  grinding  in  the  same  rut,  perhaps 
growing  richer  and  richer.  What  matters  it?  He 
can  not  eat  his  gold.  He  can  not  spend  it.  His  mon- 
ey, instead  of  being  beneficial  to  hini,  becomes  a  curse. 
He  is  the  slave  of  avarice,  the  meanest  of  sins.  He  is 
spoken  of  as  a  despicable  creature.  He  becomes  base, 
even  in  his  own  estimation. 

What  a  miserable  end  was  that  of  the  rich  man  who, 
when  dying,  found  no  comfort  save  in  plunging  his 
hands  into  a  pile  of  new  sovereigns,  which  had  been 
brought  to  him  from  the  bank.  As  the  world  faded 
from  him,  he  still  clutched  them  ;  handled  and  fondled 
them  one  by  one,  and  then  he  passed  away,  his  last  ef- 
fort being  to  finger  his  gold  !  Elwes,  the  miser,  died 
shrieking, "I  will  keep  my  money! — nobody  shall  de- 
li 


314  Riches  no  Claim  to  Distinction,   [CHAP.  ZIV. 

pi-ive  me  of  my  property  !"  A  ghastly  and  humiliating 
spectacle !  < 

Rich  men  are  more  punished  for  their  excess  of  econ- 
omy than  poor  men  are  for  their  want  of  it.  They  be- 
come miserly,  think  themselves  daily  growing  poorer, 
and  die  the  deaths  of  beggars.  We  have  known  sever- 
al instances.  One  of  tlie  richest  merchants  in  London, 
after  living  for  some  time  in  penury,  went  down  into 
the  country,  to  the  parish  where  he  was  born,  and  ap- 
plied to  the  overseers  for  poor -relief.  Though  pos- 
sessing millions,  he  w^as  horror-struck  by.  the  fear  of 
becoming  poor.  Relief  was  granted  him,  and  he  posi- 
tively died  the  death  of  a  pauper.  One  of  the  richest 
merchants  in  the  North  died  in  the  receipt  of  poor- 
relief.  Of  course,  all  that  the  parish  authorities  had 
doled  out  to  these  poor-rich  men  was  duly  repaid  by 
their  executors. 

And  what  did  these  rich  persons  leave  behind  them? 
Only  the  reputation  that  they  had  died  rich  men.  But 
riches  do  not  constitute  any  claim  to  distinction.  It 
is  only  the  vulgar  who  admire  riches  as  riches.  Money 
is  a  drug  in  the  market.  Some  of  the  most  wealthy 
men  living  are  mere  nobodies.  Many  of  them  are  com- 
paratively ignorant.  They  are  of  no  moral  or  social 
account.  A  short  time  since,  a  list  was  published  of 
two  hundred  and  twenty -four  English  millionaires. 
Some  were  known  as  screws ;  some  were  "  smart  men  " 
in  regard  to  speculations ;  some  were  large  navvies, 
coal-miners,  and  manufacturers ;  some  were  almost  un- 
known beyond  their  own  local  circle ;  some  were  very 
poor  creatures ;  very  few  were  men  of  distinction.  All 
that  one  could  say  of  them  was,  that  they  died  rich 
men. 

"All  the  rich  and  all  the  covetous  men  in  the  world," 
said  Jeremy  Taylor, "  will  perceive,  and  all  the  world 
will  perceive  for  them,  that  it  is  but  an  ill  recompense 


CHAP.  XIV.]         Democrats  and  Riches.  315 

for  all  their  cares,  tliat  by  this  time  all  that  shall  be 
left  will  be  this,  that  the  neighbors  shall  say, /ie  died 
a  rich  man:  and  yet  his  wealth  will  not  profit  him 
in  the  grave,  but  hngely  swell  the  sad  accounts  of  his 
doomsday." 

"  One  of  the  chief  causes,"  says  Mrs.  Gore,  "  which 
render  the  pursuit  of -wealth  a  bitterer  as  well  as  more 
pardonable  struggle  in  England  than  on  the  Conti- 
nent, is  the  unequal  and  capricious  distribution  of  fam- 
ily property Country  gentlemen  and  professional 

men — nay,  men  without  the  pretension  of  being  gentle- 
men— are  scarcely  less  smitten  with  the  mania  of  cre- 
ating *  an  eldest  son,'  to  the  exclusion  and  degradation 
of  their  younger  children;  and  by  the  individuals  thus 
defrauded  by  their  nearest  and  dearest  is  the  idolatry 
of  Mammon  pursued  without  the  least  regard  to  self-re 
spect,  or  the  rights  of  their  fellow-creatures.  Injured, 
they  injure  in  their  turn.  Their  days  are  devoted  to  a 
campaign  for  the  recovery  of  their  birthright.  Inter- 
ested marriages,  shabbj^  bargains,  and  political  jobbery, 
may  be  traced  to  the  vile  system  of  things  which  con- 
verts the  elder  son  into  a  Dives,  and  makes  a  Lazarus 
of  his  brother." 

But  democrats  have  quite  as  great  a  love  for  riches 
as  aristocrats,  and  many  austere  republicans  are  eager 
to  be  millionaires.  Forms  of  government  do  not  in- 
fluence the  desire  for  w^ealth.  The  elder  Cato  "was  a 
usurer.  One  of  liis  means  of  making  money  was  by 
buying  young  half-fed  slaves  at  a  low  price ;  then,  by 
fattening  them  up,  and  training  them  to  work,  he  sold 
them  at  an  enhanced  price.  Brutus,  when  in  the  isle 
of  Cyprus,  lent  his  money  at  forty-eight  per  cent,  in- 
terest,* and  no  one  thought  the  worse  of  him  for  his 
usury.      Washington,  the  hero  of  American  freedom, 

♦  Cicero's  "Letters." 


316  Saladin  the  G-recd.  [chap.  xiv. 


bequeathed  his  slaves  to  his  wife.  It  did  not  occur  to 
him  to  give  them  their  liberty.  Municipal  jobbery  is 
not  unknown  in  New  York,  and  its  influential  citizens 
are  said  to  be  steeped  to  the  lips  in  political  corruption. 
Mr.  Mill  says  that  the  people  of  the  North-eastern 
States  have  apparently  got  rid  of  all  social  injustices 
and  inequalities ;  that  the  proportion  of  population  to 
capital  and  land  is  such  as  to  insure  abundance  for 
every  able-bodied  man ;  that  they  enjoy  the  six  points 
of  the  charter,  and  need  never  complain  of  poverty. 
Yet  "  all  that  these  advantages  have  done  for  them  is, 
that  the  life  of  the  whole  of  our  sex  is  devoted  to  dol- 
lar-hunting; and  of  the  other,  to  breeding  dollar-hunt- 
ers. This,"  Mr.  Mill  adds,  "  is  not  a  kind  of  social  per- 
fection which  philanthropists  to  come  will  feel  any  very 
eager  desire  to  assist  in  realizing."* 

Saladin  the  Great  conquered  Syria,  Arabia,  Persia, 
and  Mesopotamia.  He  was  the  greatest  warrior  and 
conqueror  of  his  time.  His  power  and  wealth  were 
enormous.  Yet  he  w^as  fully  persuaded  of  the  utter 
hollowness  of  riches.  He  ordered,  by  his  will,  that  con- 
siderable sums  should  be  distributed  to  Mussulmans, 
Jews,  and  Christians,  in  order  that  the  priests  of  the 
three  religions  might  implore  for  him  the  mercy  of 
God.  He  commanded  that  the  shirt  or  tunic  which  he 
■wore  at  the  time  of  his  death  should  be  carried  on 
the  end  of  a  spear  throughout  the  whole  camp  and  at 
the  head  of  his  army,  and  that  the  soldier  who  bore 
it  should  pause  at  intervals,  and  say  aloud, "  Behold  all 
that  remains  of  the  Emperor  Saladin  ! — of  all  the  states 
he  had  conquered ;  of  all  the  provinces  he  had  sub- 
dued ;  of  the  boundless  treasures  he  had  amassed ;  of 
the  countless  wealth  he  possessed ;  he  retained,  in  dy- 
ino;,  nothins:  but  this  shroud  !" 

*  "Principles  of  Political  Economy,"  book  iv.,  chap.  vi. 


CHAP.  XIV.]       Don  Jose  de  Salamanca.  317 

Don  Jose  de  Salamanca,  the  great  railway  contractor 
of  Spain,  was  in  the  early  part  of  liis  life  a  student  at 
the  University  of  Granada.  lie  there  wore,  as  he  him- 
self says,  the  oldest  and  most  worn  of  cassocks.  lie 
was  a  diligent  student;  and  after  leaving  college  he 
became  a  member  of  the  Spanish  press.  From  thence 
he  was  translated  to  the  Cabinet  of  Queen  Christina, 
of  which  he  became  finance  minister.  This  brouglit 
out  his  commercial  capacities,  and  induced  him  to  enter 
on  commercial  speculations.  He  constructed  railways 
in  Spain  and  Italy,  and  took  the  principal  share  in 
establishing  several  steam  shipping  companies.  But 
while  pursuing  commerce,  he  did  not  forget  literature. 
Once  a  week  he  kept  an  open  table,  to  which  the  fore- 
most men  in  literature  and  the  press  were  invited. 
They  returned  his  hospitality  by  inviting  him  to  a  din- 
ner on  tlie  most  economic  scale.  Busts  of  Shakspeare, 
Cervantes,  Dante,  Schiller,  and  other  literary  men, 
adorned  the  room. 

In  returning  thanks  for  his  health,  Salamanca  refer- 
red to  liis  university  experience,  and  to  his  labors  in 
connection  with  the  press.  "  Then,"  he  went  on  to  say, 
"  the  love  of  gold  took  possession  of  my  soul,  and  it 
was  at  Madrid  that  I  found  the  object  of  my  adora- 
tion ;  but  not,  alas  !  without  the  loss  of  my  juvenile  illu- 
lusions.  Believe  me,  gentlemen,  the  man  who  can  sat- 
isfy all  his  wishes  has  no  more  enjoyment.  Keep  to 
the  course  you  have  entered  on,  I  advise  you.  Roths- 
child's celebrity  will  expire  on  the  day  of  his  death. 
Immortality  can  be  earned,  not  bouglit.  Here  are  be- 
fore us  the  effigies  of  men  who  have  gloriously  culti- 
vated liberal  arts;  their  busts  I  have  met  with  in  every 
part  of  Europe ;  but  nowhere  liave  I  found  a  statue 
erected  to  the  honor  of  a  man  who  has  devoted  his  life 
to  making  money." 

Riches  and  happiness  have  no  necessary  connection 


818  Comioensations  of  Poverty.      [CHAP.  XIV. 

with  each  other.  In  some  cases  it  might  be  said  that 
happiness  is  in  the  inverse  proportion  to  riches.  The 
happiest  part  of  most  men's  lives  is  while  they  are  bat- 
tling with  poverty,  and  gradually  raising  themselves 
above  it.  It  is  then  that  they  deny  themselves  for  the 
sake  of  others;  that  they  save  from  their  earnings  to 
secure  a  future  independence ;  that  they  cultivate  their 
minds  while  laboring  for  their  daily  bread ;  that  they 
endeavor  to  render  themselves  wiser  and  better,  hap- 
pier in  their  homes,  and  more  useful  to  society  at  large. 
William  Chambers,  the  Edinburgh  publisher,  speaking 
of  the  labors  of  his  early  years,  says,  "  I  look  back  to 
those  times  with  great  pleasure,  and  I  am  almost  sor- 
ry that  I  have  not  to  go  through  the  same  experience 
again ;  for  I  reaped  more  pleasure  when  I  had  not  a 
sixpence  in  my  pocket,  studying  in  a  garret  in  Edin- 
buro-h,  than  I  now  find  when  sittino*  amidst  all  the  ele- 
gancies  and  comforts  of  a  parlor." 

There  are  compensations  in  every  condition  of  life. 
The  difference  in  the  lot  of  the  rich  and  the  poor  is  not 
60  great  as  is  generally  imagined.  The  rich  man  has 
often  to  pay  a  heavy  price  for  his  privileges.  He  is 
anxious  about  his  possessions.  He  may  be  the  victim 
of  extortion.  He  is  apt  to  be  cheated.  He  is  the  mark 
for  every  man's  shaft.  He  is  surrounded  by  a  host  of 
clients,  till  his  purse  bleeds  at  every  pore.  As  they 
say  in  Yorkshire,  when  people  become  rich,  the  money 
soon  "broddles  through."  Or,  if  engaged  in  specula- 
tion, the  rich  man's  wealth  may  fly  av/ay  at  any  mo- 
ment. He  may  try  again,  and  then  wear  his  heart  out 
in  speculating  on  the  "  chances  of  the  market."  In- 
somnia is  a  rich  man's  disease.  The  thought  of  liis 
winnings  and  losings  keeps  him  sleepless.  He  is  awake 
by  day,  and  awake  by  night.  "  Riches  on  the  brain  " 
is  full  of  restlessness  and  agony. 

The  rich  man  overeats  or  overdrinks;  and  he  has 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Rishs  of  Richness.  819 

gout.  Imagine  a  man  with  a  vise  fitted  to  his  toe. 
Let  the  vise  descend  upon  the  joint,  and  be  firmly 
screwed  down.  Screw  it  again.  He  is  in  agony.  Then 
suddenly  turn  the  screw  tighter — down,  down  !  That 
is  gout!  Gout — of  which  Sydenham  has  said,  that, 
"  unlike  any  other  disease,  it  kills  more  rich  men  than 
poor,  more  wise  than  simple.  •  Great  kings,  emperors, 
generals,  admirals,  and  philosophers  have  died  of  gout. 
Hereby  Nature  shows  her  impartiality,  since  those 
whom  she  favors  in  one  way,  she  afflicts  in  another." 

Or,  the  rich  man  may  become  satiated  wuth  food, 
and  lose  his  appetite ;  while  the  poor  man  relishes 
and  digests  any  thing.  A  beggar  asked  alms  of  a  ricli 
man  "because  he  was  hungry."  "Hungry?"  said  the 
millionaire;  "how  I  envy  you!"  Abernethy's  pre- 
scription to  the  rich  man  was,  "Live  upon  a  shilling  a 
day,  and  earn  it !"  When  the  Duke  of  York  consulted 
him  about  his  health,  Abernethy's  answer  was,  "Cut 
off  the  supplies,  and  the  enemy  will  soon  leave  the  cit- 
adel." The  laborer  who  feels  little  and  thinks  less  has 
the  digestion  of  an  ostrich;  while  the  non- worker  is 
never  allowed  to  forget  that  he  has  a  stomach,  and  is 
obliged  to  watch  every  mouthful  that  he  eats.  Indus- 
try and  indigestion  are  two  things  seldom  found  united. 

Many  people  envy  the  possessions  of  the  rich,  but 
will  not  pass  through  the  risks,  the  fiitigues,  or  the 
dangers  of  acquiring  them.  It  is  related  of  the  Duke 
of  Dantzic  that  an  old  comrade,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
for  many  years,  called  upon  him  at  his  hotel  in  Paris, 
and  seemed  amazed  at  the  luxury  of  his  apartments, 
the  richness  of  his  furniture,  and  the  magnificence  of 
liis  gardens.  The  duke,  supposing  that  lie  saw  in  his 
old  comrade's  face  a  feeling  of  jealousy,  said  to  him, 
bluntly,  "You  may  liave  all  that  you  see  before  you, 
on  one  condition."  "What  is  that?"  said  his  friend. 
"  It  is  that  you  will  place  yourself  twenty  paces  off, 


820  Honest  Poverty.  [chap.  xiv. 

and  let  me  fire  at  you  Avith  a  musket  a  hundred  times." 
"I  will  certainly  not  accept  your  offer  at  tliat  price." 
"  Well,"  replied  the  marshal, "  to  gain  all  that  you  see 
before  you,  I  have  faced  more  than  a  thousand  gun- 
shots, fired  at  not  more  than  ten  paces  off." 

The  Duke  of  Marlborough  often  faced  death.  lie 
became  rich,  and  left  a  million  and  a  half  to  his  de- 
scendants to  squander.  The  duke  was  a  penurious 
man.  He  is  said  to  have  scolded  his  servant  for  light- 
ing four  candles  in  his  tent,  when  Prince  Eugene  call- 
ed upon  him  to  hold  a  conference  before  the  battle  of 
Blenheim.  Swift  said  of  the  duke,  "I  dare  hold  a 
wager  that  in  all  his  campaigns  he  was  never  known 
to  lose  his  baggage."  But  this  merely  showed  his  con- 
summate generalship.  When  ill  and  feeble  at  Bath, 
he  is  said  to  have  walked  home  from  the  rooms  to  his 
lodgings,  to  save  sixpence.  And  yet  this  may  be  ex- 
cused, for  he  may  have  walked  home  for  exercise.  He 
is  certainly  known  to  have  given  a  thousand  pounds  to 
a  young  and  deserving  soldier  who  wistied  to  purchase 
a  commission.  When  Bolingbroke  w^as  reminded  of 
one  of  the  weaknesses  of  Marlborough,  he  observed, 
"  He  was  so  great  a  man,  that  I  forgot  that  he  had  that 
defect." 

It  is  no  disgrace  to  be  poor.  The  praise  of  honest 
poverty  has  often  been  sung.  When  a  man  will  not 
stoop  to  do  wrong,  when  he  will  not  sell  himself  for 
money,  when  he  will  not  do  a  dishonest  act,  then  his 
poverty  is  most  honorable.  But  the  man  is  not  poor 
who  can  pay  his  way,  and  save  something  besides.  He 
who  pays  cash  for  all  that  he  purchases  is  not  poor, 
but  well  off.  He  is  in  a  happier  condition  than  tlie 
idle  gentleman  who  runs  into  debt,  and  is  clothed, 
shod,  and  fed  at  the  expense  of  his  tailor,  shoe-maker, 
and  butcher.  Montesquieu  says  that  a  man  is  not  poor 
because  he  has  nothing,  but  he  is  poor  when  he  will  not 


CHAP.  XIV.]       Poverty  and  Happiness.  321 

or  can  not  work.  The  man  who  is  able  and  willing  to 
work  is  better  off  than  the  man  who  possesses  a  thou- 
gand  crowns  without  the  necessity  for  working. 

Nothing  sharpens  a  man's  wits  like  povert5^  Hence 
many  of  the  greatest  men  have  originally  been  poor 
men.  Poverty  often  purifies  and  braces  a  man's  mor- 
als. To  spirited  people,  difficult  tasks  are  usually  the 
most  deliglitful  ones.  If  we  may  rely  upon  the  testi- 
mony of  history,  men  are  brave,  truthful,  and  magnani- 
mous, not  in  proportion  to  their  wealth,  but  in  propor- 
tion to  their  smallness  of  means.  And  the  best  are 
often  the  poorest  —  always  supposing  that  they  have 
sufficient  to  meet  their  temporal  wants.  A  divine  has 
said  that  God  has  created  poverty,  but  he  has  not  cre- 
ated misery.  And  there  is  certainly  a  great  difference 
between  tlie  two.  While  honest  poverty  is  honorable, 
misery  is  humiliating ;  inasmuch  as  the  latter  is  for  the 
most  part  the  result  of  misconduct,  and  often  of  idle- 
ness and  drunkenness.  Poverty  is  no  disgrace  to  him 
who  can  put  up  with  it ;  but  he  who  finds  the  beggar's 
staff  once  get  warm  in  his  hand  never  does  any  good, 
but  a  great  amount  of  evil. 

The  poor  are  often  the  happiest  of  people — far  more 
so  than  the  rich ;  but  though  they  may  be  envied,  no 
one  will  be  found  willing  to  take  their  place.  Moore 
has  told  the  story  of  the  overfed,  oversatisfied  Eastern 
despot,  who  sent  a  messenger  to  travel  through  the 
world  in  order  to  find  out  the  happiest  man.  When 
discovered,  the  messenger  was  immediately  to  seize 
him,  take  his  shirt  off  his  back,  and  bring  it  to  the 
caliph.  The  messenger  found  the  happiest  man  in  an 
Irishman — happy,  dancing,  and  flourishing  his  shilla- 
lah.  But  when  the  embassador  proceeded  to  seize 
him,  and  undress  him,  he  found  that  the  Irishman  had 
got  no  shirt  to  his  back  ! 

The  portion  of  Agur  is  unquestionably   the  best : 


822  Chanty.  [chap.  xiv. 

*'  Remove  far  from  me  vanity  and  lies  :  give  me  neither 
poverty  nor  riclies ;  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for 
me."  The  unequal  distribution  of  the  disposition  to 
he  happy  is  of  far  greater  importance  than  the  unequal 
distribution  of  wealth.  The  disposition  to  be  content 
and  satisfied,  said  David  Hume,  is  at  least  equal  to  an 
income  of  a  thousand  a  year.  Montaigne  has  observed 
that  fortune  confers  but  little.  Human  good  or  ill 
does  not  depend  upon  it.  It  is  but  the  seed  of  good, 
which  the  soul,  infinitely  stronger  than  wealth,  changes 
and  applies  as  it  pleases,  and  is  thus  the  only  cause  of 
a  happy  or  unhappy  disposition. 

England  is  celebrated  for  its  charities.  M.  Guizot 
declares  that  there  is  nothing  in  this  land  that  so  fills 
the  mind  of  the  stranger  with  amazement  at  our  re- 
sources, and  admiration  at  our  use  of  them,  as  the  no- 
ble free-gift  monuments  raised  on  every  side  for  the 
relief  of  multiform  sufiering.  The  home  philanthro- 
pist, who  looks  a  little  deeper  than  the  foreign  visitor, 
may  be  disposed  to  take  another  view  of  the  eifects  of 
money-giving.  That  charity  produces  unmixed  good 
i^^  very  mucli  questioned.  Charity,  like  man,  is  some- 
times blind,  and  frequently  misguided.  Unless  money 
is  wisely  distributed,  it  will  frequently  do  more  harm 
than  good.  If  charity  could  help  or  elevate  the  poor, 
London  would  now  be  the  happiest  city  in  the  world ; 
for  about  three  millions  of  money  are  spent  on  charity, 
and  about  one  in  every  three  of  the  London  population 
is  relieved  by  charitable  institutions. 

It  is  very  easy  to  raise  money  for  charity.  Sub- 
scription-lists constantly  attest  the  fjact.  A  rich  man 
is  asked  by  some  influential  person  for  money.  It  is 
very  easy  to  give  it.  It  saves  time  to  give  it.  It  is 
considered  a  religious  duty  to  give  it.  Yet  to  give 
money  unthinkingly,  to  give  it  without  considering 
how  it  is  to  be  used,  instead  of  being  for  the  good  of 


CHAP.  XIV.]        Evils  of  Money-giving.  823 

our  fellow-creatures,  may  often  prove  the  greatest  in- 
jury we  could  inflict  ujoon  them.  True  benevolence 
does  not  consist  in  giving  money.  Nor  can  charitable 
donations,  given  indiscriminately  to  the  poor,  have  any 
other  effect  than  to"sap  the  foundations  of  self-respect, 
and  break  down  the  very  outworks  of  virtue  itself. 
There  are  many  forms  of  benevolence  which  create  the 
very  evils  they  are  intended  to  cure,  and  encourage 
the  poorer  classes  in  the  habit  of  dependence  upon  the 
charity  of  others,  to  the  neglect  of  those  far  healthier 
means  of  social  well-being  which  lie  within  their  own 
reach. 

One  would  think  that  three  millions  a  j-ear  were 
sufficient  to  relieve  all  the  actual  distress  that  exists 
in  London.  Yet  the  distress,  notwithstanding  all  the 
money  spent  upon  it,  goes  on  increasing.  May  not 
the  money  spent  in  charity  create  the  distress  it  re- 
lieves, besides  creating  other  distress  which  it  fails  to 
relieve?  Uneducated  and  idle  people  will  not  exert 
themselves  for  a  living,  when  they  have  the  hope  of 
obtaining  the  living  without  exertion.  Who  will  be 
frugal  and  provident  •when  charity  offers  all  that 
frugality  and  providence  can  confer  ?  Does  not  the 
gift  of  the  advantages,  comforts,  and  rewards  of  indus- 
try, without  the  necessity  of  laboring  for  them,  tend 
to  sap  the  very  foundations  of  energy  and  self-reliance? 
Is  not  the  circumstance  that  poverty  is  the  only  requi- 
pite  qualification  on  the  part  of  the  applicant  for  char- 
ity calculated  to  tempt  the  people  to  self-indulgence, 
to  dissipation,  and  to  those  courses  of  life  which  keep 
them  poor? 

Men  who  will  not  struggle  and  exert  tliemselves  are 
those  who  are  helped  first.  The  worst  sort  of  persons 
are  made  comfortable;  while  the  hard-working,  self 
Bupporting  man,  who  disdains  to  throw  liimself  upon 
charity,  is  compelled  to  pay  rates  for  the  maintenance 


824  Philanthropy  and  Charity.     [CHAP.  XIV. 

of  the  idle.  Charity  stretches  forth  its  hand  to  the 
rottenest  parts  of  society ;  it  rarely  seeks  out,  or  helps, 
the  struggling  and  the  honest.  As  Carlyle  has  said, 
"  O  my  astonishing  benevolent  friends !  that  never 
think  of  meddling  with  the  material  while  it  continues 
sound  ;  that  stress  and  strain  it  with  new  rates  and 
assessments,  till  even  it  has  given  way  and  declared 
itself  rotten  ;  whereupon  you  greedily  snatch  at  it,  and 
say, '  Now,  let  us  try  to  do  some  good  upon  it !' " 

The  charity  which  merely  consists  in  giving  is  an 
idle  indulgence — often  an  idle  vice.  The  mere  giving 
of  money  will  never  do  the  Avork  of  philanthropy.  As 
a  recent  writer  has  said,  "  The  crimes  of  the  virtuous, 
the  blasphemies  of  the  pious,  and  the  follies  of  the  wise, 
would  scarcely  fill  a  larger  volume  than  the  cruelties 
of  the  humane.  In  this  world  a  large  part  of  the  occu- 
pation of  the  wise  has  been  to  neutralize  the  efforts  of 
the  good." 

"  Public  charities,"  said  the  late  Lord  Lytton,  "  are 
too  often  merely  a  bonus  to  public  indolence  and  vice. 
What  a  dark  lesson  of  the  fallacy  of  human  wisdom 
does  this  knowledge  strike  into  the  heart !  What  a 
waste  of  the  materials  of  kindly  sympathies !  What  a 
perversion  individual  mistakes  can  cause  even  in  the 
virtues  of  a  nation  !  Charity  is  a  feeling  dear  to  the 
pride  of  the  human  heart;  it  is  an  aristocratic  emo- 
tion !  Mohammed  testified  his  deep  knowledge  of  his 
kind  when  he  allowed  the  vice  hardest  to  control  — 
sexual  licentiousness ;  and  encouraged  the  virtue  easi- 
est to  practice — charity."* 

There  are  clergymen  in  London  who  say  that  chari- 
ty acts  against  the  extension  of  religion  among  the 
people.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Stone  says:  "He  is  an  unwel- 
come visitor  to  the  poor  who  brings  the  Bible  in  one 

*  Lord  Lytton,  "England  and  the  English," p.  124. 


CHAP.  XIV.]        How  io  Help  the  Poor.  825 

hand,  without  a  loaf,  a  blanket,  or  a  shilling  in  the 
other.  And  no  wonder.  By  the  prevailing  system  of 
charitable  relief  they  have  been  nursed  in  this  carnal 
spirit ;  they  have  been  justified  in  those  selfish  expec- 
tations. Instead  of  being  allowed  to  learn  the  great 
and  salutary  lesson  of  provideilce,  that  there  is  a  neces- 
sary connection  between  their  conduct  and  their  con- 
dition, they  have,  by  this  artificial  system,  been  taught 
that  indigence  is  o/'i7se{/' sufficient  to  constitute  a  claim 
to  relief.  They  have  been  thus  encouraged  in  improv- 
idence, immorality,  fraud,  and  hypocrisy." 

The  truest  philanthropists  are  those  who  endeavor 
to  prevent  misery,  dependence,  and  destitution  ;  and 
especially  those  who  diligently  help  the  poor  to  help 
themselves.  This  is  the  great  advantage  of  the  "Pa- 
rochial jMission- women  Association."*  They  bring 
themselves  into  close  communication  with  the  people 
in  the  several  parishes  of  London,  and  endeavor  to  as- 
sist them  in  many  ways.  But  they  avoid  giving  in- 
discriminate alms.  Their  objects  are  "  to  help  the  poor 
to  help  themselves,  and  to  raise  them  by  making  them 
feel  that  they  can  help  themselves."  There  is  abun- 
dant room  for  philanthropy  among  all  classes;  and  it 
is  most  gratifying  to  find  ladies  of  liigh  distinction  tak- 
ing part  in  this  noble  work. 

There  are  numerous  other  societies  established  of 
late  years  which  afford  gratifying  instances  of  the  high- 
er and  more  rational,  as  w^ell  as  really  more  Christian, 
forms  of  charity.  The  societies  for  improving  the 
dwellings  of  the  industrious  classes;  for  building  baths 
and  wash-houses;  for  establishing  workmen's,  seamen's, 
and  servants'  homes ;  for  cultivating  habits  of  provi- 
dence and  frugality  among  the  working -classes;  and 
for  extending  the  advantages  of  knowledge  among  the 

♦  See  East  and  West,  edited  by  the  Countess  Spencer. 


326  Rich  Peoples  Wills.  [CHAP.  xiv. 

people — are  important  agencies  of  this  kind.  These,  in- 
stead of  sapping  the  foundations  of  self-reliance,  are 
really  and  truly  helping  the  people  to  help  themselves, 
and  are  deserving  of  every  approbation  and  encourage- 
ment. They  tend  to  elevate  the  condition  of  the  mass  ; 
they  are  embodiments  *of  philanthropy  in  its  highest 
form,  and  arc  calculated  to  bear  good  fruit  through  all 
time. 

Rich  men,  with  the  prospect  of  death  before  them, 
are  often  very  much  concerned  about  their  money  af- 
fairs. If  unmarried  and  without  successors,  they  find 
a  considerable  difficulty  in  knowing  what  to  do  with 
the  pile  of  gold  they  have  gathered  together  during 
their  life-time.  They  must  make  a  will,  and  leave  it  to 
somebody.  In  olden  times,  rich  people  left  money  to 
pay  for  masses  for  their  souls.  Perhaps  many  do  so  still. 
Some  founded  almshouses ;  others,  hospitals.  Money 
was  left  for  the  purpose  of  distributing  doles  to  poor 
persons,  or  to  persons  of  the  same  name  and  trade  as 
the  deceased.  This  is  still  done,  and  it  is  often  fruitful 
of  mischief  For  instance,  a  person  in  Irvine,  called 
Ferguson,  made  a  large  fortune,  and,  when  he  came  to 
die,  he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  it.  His  half  a 
million  of  money  could  not  prolong  his  days  for  an  hour 
— no,  not  for  a  minute.  He  called  in  two  ministers  to 
help  him  to  make  his  will.  When  he  died,  and  the  will 
was  read,  it  was  found  that  part  of  the  interest  on  the 
money  was  to  be  divided  among  his  relations  of  what- 
ever kin,  and  part  among  the  ministers  (before  unen- 
dowed) of  several  denominations.  The  gold  bait  at- 
tracted an  immense  number  of  relatives.  They  were 
for  the  most  part  of  the  poorest  classes.  The  greater 
number  of  them  gave  up  working.  Some  took  to 
drinking,  became  the  nuisance  of  their  respective  neigh- 
borhoods, and  soon  drank  themselves  to  death.  The 
others,  wiio  did  not  drink,  also  gave  up  work,  and  were 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Stephen  Gtrard.  827 

to  be  seen  going  about  with  their  hands  in  their  pock- 
ets. In  short,  the  bequeathment  of  Ferguson  to  his 
relatives  was  entirely  mischievous.  But  as  the  drunk- 
en lives  fell  in,  the  trustees  of  the  charity  appropria- 
ted some  of  the  revenue  to  establish  three  scholarships 
yearly  (each  tenable  for  two  years) ;  so  that  eventually 
the  Ferguson  endowment  may  do  some  good. 

The  bequeathment  of  Stephen  Girard,  the  wealthy 
American  merchant,  was  of  a  different  character.  Gi- 
rard was  a  native  of  Bordeaux.  An  orphan  at  an  early 
age,  he  was  put  on  board  a  ship  as  a  cabin-boy.  He 
made  his  first  voyage  to  Xorth  America  when  about 
ten  or  twelve  years  old.  He  had  little  education,  and 
only  a  limited  acquaintance  with  reading  and  writing. 
He  worked  hard.  He  gradually  improved  in  means,  so 
that  he  was  able  to  set  up  a  store.  While  living  in 
"Water  Street,  New  York,  he  fell  in  love  with  Polly  Lura, 
the  daughter  of  a  calker.  The  father  forbade  the  mar- 
riage. But  Girard  persevered,  and  at  length  he  won 
and  married  Polly  Lum.  It  proved  a  most  unfortunate 
marriage.  His  wife  had  no  sympathy  with  him,  and  he 
became  cross,  snappish,  morose.  He  took  to  sea  again  ; 
and  at  forty  he  commanded  his  own  sloop,  and  was  en- 
gaged in  the  coasting-trade  between  Xew  York,  Phila- 
delphia, and  Xew  Orleans. 

Then  he  settled  in  Philadelphia,  and  became  a  mer- 
chant. He  devoted  his  whole  soul  to  his  business,  for 
he  had  determined  to  become  rich.  He  practiced  the 
most  rigid  economy.  He  performed  any  work  by 
which  money  could  be  made.  He  shut  his  heart  against 
the  blandishments  of  life.  The  desire  for  wealth  seems 
to  have  possessed  his  soul.  His  life  was  one  of  un- 
ceasing labor.  Remember  that  Girard  was  unha]>py 
at  home.  His  nature  might  have  been  softened,  had 
lie  been  blessed  Avith  a  ha])py  wife.  He  led  ten  miser- 
able years  with  her,  and  then  she  became  insane.     She 


828  Girard  and  Helm.  [chap.  xiv. 

lay  for  about  twenty  years  in  the  Pennsylvania  Hos- 
pital, and  died  there. 

Yet  there  was  sometliing  more  than  hardness  and 
liarshness  in  Girard.  There  was  a  deep  under-current 
of  humanity  in  him.  When  the  yellow  fever  broke 
out  in  Philadelphia,  in  1793,  his  better  nature  showed 
itself.  The  people  were  smitten  to  death  by  thousands. 
Nurses  could  not  be  found  to  attend  the  patients  in 
the  hospital.  It  was  regarded  as  certain  death  to 
nurse  the  sick. 

"Wealth  had  no  power  to  bribe,  nor  beauty  to  charm,  tlie  oppressor; 
But  all  perished  alike  beneath  the  scourge  of  his  anger ; 
Only,  alas !  the  poor,  who  had  neither  friends  nor  attendants, 
Crept  away  to  die  in  the  almshouse,  home  of  the  homeless." 

It  was  at  this  time,  w'hen  many  were  stricken  with 
fever,  that  Girard  abandoned  his  business,  and  offered 
liis  services  as  superintendent  of  the  public  hospital. 
He  had  Peter  Helm  for  his  associate.  Girard's  busi- 
ness fjxculty  immediately  displayed  itself.  His  powers 
of  organization  were  immense,  and  the  results  of  his 
work  w^ere  soon  observed.  Order  began  to  reign  where 
every  thing  had  before  been  in  confusion.  Dirt  was 
conquered  by  cleanliness.  Where  there  had  been  waste- 
fulness, there  was  now  thriftiness.  Where  there  had 
been  neglect,  there  was  unremitting  attention.  Girard 
saw  that  every  case  was  properly  attended  to.  He 
himself  attended  to  the  patients  afflicted  by  the  loath- 
some disease,  ministered  to  the  dying,  and  performed 
the  last  kind  offices  for  the  dead.  At  last  the  plague 
was  stayed;  and  Girard  and  Helm  returned  to  their 
ordinary  occupations. 

The  visitors  of  the  poor  in  Philadelphia  placed  the 
following  minute  on  their  books:  "Stephen  Girard 
and  Peter  Helm,  members  of  the  committee,  commiser- 
ating the  calamitous  state  to  which  the  sick  may  prob- 
ably be  reduced  for  want  of  suitable  persons  to  super- 


CHAP.  XIV.]  Girard  College.  329 

intend  the  hospital,  voluntarily  offered  their  services 
for  that  benevolent  employment,  and  excited  a  surprise 
and  satisfaction  that  can  be  better  conceived  than  ex- 
pressed." 

The  results  of  Stephen  Girard's  industry  and  economy 
may  be  seen  in  Philadelphia — in  the  beautiful  dwell- 
ing-houses, row  after  row — but  more  than  all,  in  the 
magnificent  marble  edifice  of  Girard  College.  He  left 
the  greater  part  of  his  fortune  for  public  purposes — 
principally  to  erect  and  maintain  a  public  library  and 
a  large  orphanage.  It  might  have  been  in  regard  to 
his  own  desolate  condition,  when  cast  an  orphan  among 
strangers  and  foreigners,  that  he  devised  his  splendid 
charity  for  poor,  forlorn,  and  fatherless  children.  One 
of  the  rooms  in  the  college  is  singularly  furnished. 
*'  Girard  had  directed  that  a  suitable  room  was  to  be 
set  apart  for  the  preservation  of  his  books  and  papers; 
but  from  excess  of  pious  care,  or  dread  of  the  next  of 
kin,  all  the  plain,  homely  man's  eflfects  w^ere  shoveled 
into  this  room.  Here  are  his  boxes  and  his  book-case, 
his  gig  and  his  gaiters,  his  pictures  and  his  pottery ; 
and  in  a  book -case,  hanging  with  careless  grace,  are 
his  braces — old,  homely  knitted  braces,  telling  their 
tale  of  simplicity  and  carefulness."* 

One  of  the  finest  hospitals  in  London  is  that  founded 
by  Thomas  Guy,  the  book-seller.  He  is  said  to  have 
been  a  miser.  At  all  events,  he  must  have  been  a 
thrifty  and  saving  man.  Xo  foundation  such  as  that 
of  Guy's  can  be  accomplished  without  thrift.  JNIen 
who  accomplish  such  things  must  deny  themselves  for 
the  benefit  of  others.  Thomas  Guy  appears  early  to 
have  projected  schemes  of  benevolence.  He  first  built 
and  endowed  almshouses  at  Tamworth  for  fourteen 


*  Gentleman s  Magazine,  Apiil,  1875:  George  Dawson  on  *' Niag- 
ara and  Elsewhere." 


330  Thomas  Guy.  [chap.  xiv. 

poor  men  and  women,  with  pensions  for  each  occupant ; 
and  with  a  thoughtfuhiess  becoming  his  vocation,  he 
furnished  them  with  a  library.  He  had  liimself  been 
educated  at  Tamworth,  where  he  had  doubtless  seen 
liungry  and  homeless  j^ersons  suffering  from  cleanness 
of  teeth  and  the  winter's  rage;  and  the  almshouses 
were  his  contribution  for  their  relief.  He  was  a  book- 
seller in  London  at  that  time.  Guy  prospered,  not  so 
much  by  book-selling,  as  by  buying  and  selling  South- 
Sea  Stock.  When  the  bubble  burst,  he  did  not  hold  a 
share ;  but  he  had  realized  a  profit  of  several  hundred 
thousand  pounds.  This  sum  he  principally  employed 
in  building  and  endowing  the  hospital  which  bears  his 
name.  The  building  was  roofed  in  before  his  death,  in 
1724. 

Scotch  benefactors,  for  the  most  part,  leave  their  sav- 
ings for  the  purpose  of  founding  hospitals  for  educa- 
tional purposes.  There  was,  first,  Heriot's  Hospital, 
founded  in  Edinburgh  by  George  Heriot,  the  goldsmith 
of  James  I.,  for  maintaining  and  educating  a  hundred 
and  eighty  boys.  But  the  property  of  the  hospital 
having  increased  in  value — the  New  Town  of  Edin- 
burgh being,  for  the  most  part,  built  on  George  Heriot's 
land — the  operations  of  the  charity  have  been  greatly 
extended ;  as  many  as  four  thousand  boys  and  girls  be- 
ing now  educated  free  of  expense,  in  diflerent  parts  of 
the  city.  There  are  also  George  Watson's  Hospital, 
John  Watson's  Hospital,  the  Orphan  Hospital,  two 
Maiden  Hospitals,  Cauven's  Hospital,  Donaldson's  Hos- 
pital, Stewart's  Hospital,  and  the  splendid  Fettes  Col- 
lege (recently  opened),  all  founded  by  Scottish  bene- 
factors for  the  ordinary  education  of  boys  and  girls, 
and  also  for  their  higher  education.  Edinburgh  may 
well  be  called  the  City  of  Educational  Endowments. 
There  is  also  the  Madras  College,  at  St.  Andrews, 
founded  by  the  late  Andrew  Bell,  D.D. ;  the  Dollar 


CHAP.  XIV.]         Educational  Charities.  831 

Institution,  founded  by  John  Macrat ;  and  the  Dick 
Bequest,  for  elevating  tlie  character  and  position  of  the 
parochial  schools  and  school-masters  in  the  counties  of 
Aberdeen,  Banfl',  and  Moray.  The  effects  of  this  last 
bequest  have  been  most  salutary.  It  has  raised  the 
character  of  the  education  given  in  the  public  schools, 
and  the  results  have  been  frequently  observed  at  Cam- 
bridge, where  men  from  tlie  Northern  counties  have 
taken  high  honors  in  all  departments  of  learning. 

English  benefactors  have  recently  been  following  in 
the  same  direction.  Owen  College  at  Manchester;  the 
Brown  Library  and  Museum  at  Liverpool;  the  Whit- 
worth  Benefaction,  by  which  thirty  scholarships  of 
the  annual  value  of  one  hundred  pounds  each  have 
been  founded  for  the  promotion  of  technical  instruc- 
tion; and  the  Scientific  College  at  Birmingham,  found- 
ed by  Sir  Josiah  Mason,  for  the  purpose  of  educating 
the  rising  generation  in  "  sound,  extensive,  and  practi- 
cal scientific  knowledge" — form  a  series  of  excellent 
institutions,  which  will,  we  hope,  be  followed  by  many 
similar  benefactions.  A  man  need  not  molder  with 
the  green  grass  over  liis  grave  before  his  means  are 
applied  to  noble  purposes.  He  can  make  his  benefac- 
tions while  living,  and  assist  at  the  outset  in  carrying 
out  liis  liberal  intentions. 

Among  the  great  benefiictors  of  London,  the  name 
of  3Ir.  Peabody,  the  American  banker,  can  not  be  for- 
gotten. It  would  take  a  volume  to  discuss  his  merits, 
though  we  must  dismiss  him  in  a  paragraph.  lie  Avas 
one  of  the  first  to  see,  or,  at  all  events,  to  make  amends 
for,  the  houseless  condition  of  the  working- classes  of 
London.  In  tlie  formation  of  railways  under  and  above 
ground,  in  opening  out  and  widening  new  streets,  in 
erecting  new  public  buildings,  the  dwellings  of  the 
poor  were  destroyed,  and  their  occupants  swarmed 
away,  no  one  knew  whither.     Perhaps  they  crowded 


332  Benefactors  of  the  Poor.        [chap.  xiv. 

closer  together,  and  bred  disease  in  many  forms.  Soci- 
eties and  companies  were  formed  to  remedy  the  evil  to 
a  certain  extent.  Sir  Sidney  Waterlow  was  one  of  the 
first  to  lead  the  way,  and  he  was  followed  by  others. 
But  it  was  not  until  Mr.  Peabody  had  left  his  splendid 
benefaction  to  the  poor  of  London  that  any  step  could 
be  taken  to  deal  with  the  evil  on  a  large  and  com- 
prehensive scale.  His  trustees  have  already  erected 
ranges  of  workmen's  dwellings  in  many  parts  of  the 
metropolis,  which  will,  from  time  to  time,  be  extend- 
ed to  other  parts.  The  Peabody  dwellings  furnish  an 
example  of  what  working-men's  dwellings  ought  to  be. 
They  are  clean,  tidy,  and  comfortable  homes.  They 
have  diminished  drunkeimess ;  they  have  promoted  mo- 
rality. Mr.  Peabody  intended  that  his  bounty  should 
"directly  ameliorate  the  condition  and  augment  the 
comforts  of  the  poor,"  and  he  hoped  that  the  results 
would  "  be  appreciated,  not  only  by  the  present,  but 
by  future  generations  of  the  people  of  London."  From 
all  that  the  trustees  have  done,  it  is  clear  that  they  are 
faithfully  and  nobly  carrying  out  his  intentions. 

All  these  benefactors  of  the  poor  were  originally  men 
of  moderate  means.  Some  of  them  w^ere  at  one  time 
poor  men.  Sir  Joseph  Whitworth  was  a  journeyman 
engineer  with  Mr.  Clement,  in  Southwark,  the  inventor 
of  the  planing -machine.  Sir  Josiah  Mason  was  by 
turns  a  coster-monger,  journeyman  baker,  shoe-maker, 
carpet -weaver,  jeweler,  split-steel  ring-maker  (here  he 
made  his  first  thousand  pounds),  steel-pen-maker,  cop- 
per-smelter, and  electro-plater,  in  which  last  trade  he 
made  his  fortune.  Mr.  Peabody  worked  his  way  up  by 
small  degrees,  from  a  clerk  in  America  to  a  banker  in 
London.  Their  benefactions  have  been  the  result  of 
self-denial,  industry,  sobriety,  and  thrift. 

Benevolence  throws  out  blossoms  which  do  not  al- 
ways ripen  into  fruit.  It  is  easy  enough  to  project  a 
benevolent  undertaking,  but  more  difficult  to  carry  it 


CHAP.  XIV.]  ^^ Navvy  s  Honey  33 


Q 


out.  The  author  was  once  induced  to  take  an  inter- 
est in  a  proposed  Navvy's  Home ;  but  cold  water  was 
thrown  upon  the  project,  and  it  failed.  The  navvy 
workmen,  who  have  made  the  railways  and  docks  of 
England,  are  a  hard-working  but  a  rather  thriftless  set. 
They  are  good-hearted  fellows,  but  sometimes  drunken. 
In  carrying  out  their  operations,  they  often  run  great 
dangers.  They  are  sometimes  so  seriously  injured  by 
wounds  and  fractures  as  to  be  disabled  for  life.  For 
instance,  in  carrying  out  the  works  of  the  Manchester, 
Sheffield,  and  Lincolnshire  Railway,  there  were  twenty- 
two  cases  of  compound  fractures,  seventy-four  simple 
fractures,  besides  burns  from  blasts,  severe  contusions, 
lacerations,  and  dislocations.  One  man  lost  both  his 
eyes  by  a  blast,  another  had  his  arm  broken  by  a  blast. 
Many  lost  their  fingers,  feet,  legs,  and  arms;  which 
disabled  them  for  further  work.  Knowing  the  perils 
to  which  railway  laborers  were  exposed,  it  occurred  to 
one  of  the  most  eminent  contractors  to  help  and  com- 
fort these  injured  workmen  during  their  declininGj 
years.  The  subject  was  brought  under  the  author's 
notice  by  his  friend  the  late  Mr.  Eborall,  in  the  follow- 
ing words :  "I  have  just  been  visiting  a  large  contract- 
or— a  man  of  great  wealth ;  and  he  requests  your  as- 
sistance in  establishing  a  '  Navvy's  Home.'  You  know 
that  many  of  the  contractors  and  engineers  who  have 
been  engaged  in  the  construction  of  railways  are  men 
who  have  accumulated  immense  fortunes :  the  savings 
of  some  of  them  amount  to  millions.  Well,  my  friend 
the  contractor  not  long  since  found  a  miserable,  worn- 
out  old  man  in  a  ditch  by  the  roadside.  '  What,'  said 
he,  *is  that  you?'  naming  the  man  in  tlie  ditch  by  his 
name.  'Ay,'  replied  the  man,  '  'deed  it  is  !'  *  What 
are  you  doing  there  ?'  '  I  have  come  here  to  die.  I 
can  work  no  more.'  '  Why  don't  you  go  to  the  work- 
house? they  will  attend  to  your  wants  there.'  *No! 
no  work-house  for  mc  !     If  I  am  to  die,  T  will  die  in  tlio 


334  ^^  Navvy's  Horned  [chap.  xiv. 

open  air.'  The  contractor  recognized  in  the  man  one 
ot*  his  former  navvies.  He  had  worked  for  him  and 
for  other  contractors  many  years ;  and  while  they  had 
been  making  their  fortunes,  the  navvy  who  had  work- 
ed for  them  had  fallen  so  low  as  to  be  found  dying 
in  a  ditch.  The  contractor  was  much  affected.  He 
thought  of  the  numerous  other  navvies  who  must  be 
wanting  similar  help.  Shortly  after,  he  took  ill,  and 
durinoj  his  illness,  thinking:  of  what  he  miojht  do  for  the 
navvies,  the  idea  occurred  to  him  of  founding  a  'Nav- 
vy's Home ;'  and  he  has  desired  me  to  ask  you  to  assist 
him  in  bringing  out  the  institution." 

It  seemed  to  the  author  an  admirable  project,  and 
lie  consented 'to  do  all  that  he  could  for  it.  But  Avhen 
the  persons  who  were  the  most  likely  to  contribute  to 
such  an  institution  were  applied  to,  they  threw  such 
floods  of  cold  water  upon  it,*  that  it  became  evident, 
in  the  face  of  their  opposition,  that  "  The  Navvy's 
Home  "  could  not  be  established.  Of  course,  excuses 
were  abundant.  "  Navvies  were  the  most  extravagant 
workmen.  They  threw  away  every  thing  that  they 
earned.  They  spent  their  money  on  beer,  whisky, 
tally-women,  and  Champagne.  If  they  died  in  ditches, 
it  was  their  own  fault.  They  might  have  established 
themselves  in  comfort,  if  they  wished  to  do  so.  ^yhy 
should  other  people  provide  for  them  in  old  age  more 
than  for  any  other  class  of  laborers  ?  There  was  the 
work-house :  let  them  go  there."  And  so  on.  It  is 
easy  to  find  a  stick  to  beat  a  sick  dog.  As  for  the 
original  projector,  he  recovered  his  health,  he  forgot  to 
subscribe  for  "  The  Navvy's  Home,"  and  the  scheme  fell 
to  the  ground. 

"The  devil  was  sick,  the  devil  a  monk  would  be: 
The  devil  was  well,  the  devil  a  monk  was  he." 

*  With  one  admirable  exception.  A  noble-hearted  man,  still  liv- 
inf;,  volunteered  a  very  large  subscription  toward  the  establishment  of 
"The  Navvv's  Home." 


CHAPTER  XV. 


HEALTUY    HOMES. 

"The  best  security  for  civilization  is  the  dwelling." — B.  Disraeli. 
"Cleanliness  is  the  elegance  of  the  poor." — English  Proverb. 
"Sanitas  sanitatum,  et  omnia  sanitas." — Julius  Mexochius. 
"Virtue  never  dwelt  long  with  filth  and  nastiness." — Count  Kum- 

FORD. 

"iMore  servants  wait  on  ^lan 
Than  he'll  take  notice  of:  in  every  path 
He  treads  down  that  which  doth  befriend  him 
AVlien  sickness  makes  him  pale  and  wan." — GiioRGE  IIerbert. 

HEALTH  is  said  to  be  wealth.  Inclectl,  all  wealth 
is  valueless  without  health.  Every  man  who 
lives  by  labor,  whether  of  mind  or  body,  regards  health 
as  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  possessions.  Without 
it,  life  would  be  unenjoyable.  The  human  system  has 
been  so  framed  as  to  render  enjoyment  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal ends  of  physical  life.  The  whole  arrangement, 
structure,  and  functions  of  the  human  system  are  beau- 
tifully adapted  for  that  purpose. 

The  exercise  of  every  sense  is  pleasurable — the  ex- 
ercise of  sight,  hearing,  taste,  touch,  and  muscular  ef- 
fort. What  can  be  more  pleasurable,  for  instance,  than 
the  feeling  of  entire  health — health  which  is  the  sum 
total  of  the  functions  of  life,  duly  performed?  "En- 
joyment," says  Dr.  Southwood  Smith,  "  is  not  only  the 
end  of  life,  but  it  is  the  only  condition  of  life  which  is 
compatible  with  a  protracted  term  of  existence.  The 
happier  a  human  being  is,  the  longer  he  lives;  the 
more  he  suffers,  the  sooner  he  dies.     To  add  to  enjoy- 


836  Healthy  Existence,  [chap.  xv. 

nient  is  to  lengthen  life ;  to  inflict  pain  is  to  shorten 
its  duration." 

Happiness  is  the  rule  of  healtliy  existence ;  pain  and 
misery  are  its  exceptional  conditions.  Nor  is  pain  al- 
together an  evil ;  it  is  rather  a  salutary  warning.  It 
tells  us  that  we  have  transgressed  some  rule,  violated 
some  law,  disobeyed  some  physical  obligation.  It  is 
a  monitor  which  warns  iis  to  amend  our  state  of  liv- 
ing. It  virtually  says, "  Return  to  Nature,  observe  her 
laws,  and  be  restored  to  happiness."  Thus,  paradoxic- 
al though  it  may  seem,  pain  is  one  of  the  conditions  of 
the  physical  well-being  of  man  ;  as  death,  according  to 
Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  is  one  of  the  conditions  of  the  en- 
joyment of  life. 

To  enjoy  physical  happiness,  therefore,  the  natural 
laws  must  be  complied  with.  To  discover  and  observe 
these  laws,  man  has  been  endowed  with  the  gift  of  rea- 
son. Does  he  fail  to  exercise  this  sfift — does  he  nes:- 
lect  to  comply  with  the  law  of  his  being  —  then  pain 
and  disease  are  the  necessary  consequence. 

Man  violates  the  laws  of  nature  in  his  own  j^erson, 
and  he  suffers  accordingly.  He  is  idle,  and  overfeeds 
himself:  he  is  punished  by  gout,  indigestion,  or  apo- 
plexy. He  drinks  too  much :  he  becomes  bloated, 
trembling, and  weak;  his  appetite  falls  off, his  strength 
declines,  his  constitution  decays,  and  he  falls  a  victim 
to  the  numerous  diseases  which  haunt  the  steps  of  the 
drunkard. 

Society  suffers  in  the  same  way.  It  leaves  districts 
und rained  and  streets  un cleaned.  Masses  of  the  pop- 
ulation are  allowed  to  live  crowded  together  in  un- 
wholesome dens,  half  poisoned  by  the  mej^hitic  air  of 
the  neighborhood.  Then  a  fever  breaks  out,  or  a  chol- 
era, or  a  plague.  Disease  spreads  from  the  miserable 
abodes  of  the  poor  into  the  comfortable  homes  of  the 
rich,  carrying  death  and  devastation  before  it.     The 


CHAP.  XV.]         Necessity  for  Pure  Air.  387 

misery  and  suffering  incurred  in  such  cases  are  noth- 
ing less  than  -willful,  inasmuch  as  the  knowledge  neces- 
sary to  avert  them  is  within  the  reacli  of  all. 

Wherever  any  number  of  persons  live  together,  the 
atmosphere  becomes  poisoned,  unless  means  be  pro- 
vided for  its  constant  change  and  renovation.  If  there 
be  not  sufficient  ventilation,  the  air  becomes  charged 
with  carbonic  acid,  principally  the  product  of  respira- 
tion. Whatever  the  body  discharges,  becomes  poison 
to  the  body  if  introduced  again  through  the  lungs. 
Hence  the  immense  importance  of  pure  air.  A  deficien- 
cy of  food  may  be  considerably  less  injurious  than  a 
deficiency  of  pure  air.  Every  person  above  fourteen 
years  of  age  requires  about  six  hundred  cubic  feet  of 
shut-up  space  to  breathe  in  during  the  twenty-four 
hours.*  If  he  sleeps  in  a  room  of  smaller  dimensions, 
he  will  suffer  more  or  less,  and  gradually  approach  the 
condition  of  being  smothered. 

Shut  up  a  mouse  in  a  glass  receiver,  and  it  will 
gradually  die  by  re-breathing  its  own  breath.  Shut 
up  a  man  in  a  confined  space,  and  he  will  die  in  the 
same  way.  The  English  soldiers  expired  in  the  Black 
Hole  of  Calcutta  because  they  wanted  pure  air.  Thus 
about  half  the  children  born  in  some  manufacturing 
towns  die  before  they  are  five  years  old,  principally 
because  they  want  pure  air.     Humboldt  tells  of  a  sail- 

*  Where  six  hundred  cubic  feet  of  space  is  allowed,  the  air  requires 
to  be  changed,  by  ventilation,  five  times  in  the  hour,  in  order  to  keep 
it  pure.  The  best  amount  of  space  to  be  allowed  for  a  healthy  adult 
is  about  eight  hundred  cubic  feet.  The  air  which  is  breathed  becomes 
so  rapidly  impure  that  a  constant  supply  of  fresh  air  must  be  kept  up 
to  make  the  air  of  the  shut-up  space  fit  for  breathing.  The  following 
are  some  amounts  of  space  per  head  which  are  met  with  in  practice : 

Artisan  rooms 200  cubic  feet. 

Metropolitan  lodging-house 240  " 

Poor-law  Board  dormitories 300  " 

Ban-ack  regulation 600         '* 

The  best  hospitals 1500  to  2000         " 

15 


838  The  Fever  Tax.  [chap.  xv. 

or  who  was  dying  of  fever  in  the  close  hold  of  a 
ship.  His  comrades  brought  him  out  of  his  hold 
to'  die  in  the  open  air.  Instead  of  dying,  he  revived, 
and  eventually  got  well.  He  was  cured  by  the  pure 
air. 

The  most  common  result  of  breathing  impure  air, 
among  adults,  is  fever.  The  heaviest  municipal  tax, 
said  Dr.  South  wood  Smith,  is  IhQ  fever  tax.  It  is  esti- 
mated that  in  Liverpool  some  seven  thousand  persons 
'are  yearly  attacked  by  fever,  of  whom  about  five  hun- 
dred die.  Fever  usually  attacks  persons  of  between 
twenty  and  thirty,  or  those  who  generally  have  small 
families  depending  upon  them  for  support.  Hence 
deaths  from  fever,  by  causing  widowhood  and  orphan- 
age, impose  a  very  heavy  tax  upon  the  inhabitants  of 
all  the  large  manufacturing  towns.  Dr.  Playfair,  after 
carefully  considering  the  question,  is  of  opinion  that 
the  total  pecuniary  loss  inflicted  on  the  county  of 
Lancashire  ivom  2)Teventihle  disease,  sickness,  and  death 
amounts  to  not  less  than  five  millions  sterling  annual- 
ly. But  this  is  only  the  physical  and  pecuniary  loss. 
The  moral  loss  is  infinitely  greater. 

Where  are  now  the  "happy  humble  swains"  and 
the  "gentle  shepherds"  of  the  old  English  poets?  At 
the  present  time,  they  are  nowhere  to  be  found.  The 
modern  Strephon  and  Phyllis  are  a  very  humble  pair, 
living  in  a  clay -floored  cottage,  and  maintaining  a 
family  on  from  twelve  to  fifteen  shillings  a  week.  And 
so  far  from  Strephon  spending  his  time  in  sitting  by  a 
purling  stream  playing  "roundelays"  upon  a  pipe — 
poor  fellow !  he  can  scarcely  afford  to  smoke  one,  his 
hours  of  labor  are  so  long,  and  his  wages  are  so  small. 
As  for  Daphnis,  he  is  a  lout,  and  can  neither  read  nor 
write ;  nor  is  his  Chloe  any  better. 

Phineas  Fletcher  thus  sung  of  "The  Shepherd's 
Home :" 


CHAP.  XV.]  The  Arcadians.  839 

*' Thrice,  oh,  thrice  happie  shepherd's  life  and  state! 
When  courts  are  happinesse,  unhappie  pawns ! 
His  cottage  low,  and  safely  humble  gate, 

Shuts  out  proud  Fortune,  with  her  scorns  and  fawns: 
No  feared  treason  breaks  his  quiet  sleep  : 
Singing  all  day,  his  flocks  he  learns  to  keep ; 
Himself  as  innocent  as  are  bis  simple  sheep. 

*'His  certain  life,  that  never  can  deceive  him, 
Is  full  of  thousand  sweets  and  rich  content : 
The  smooth-leaved  beeches  in  the  field  receive  him 
With  coolest  shades,  till  noontide's  rage  is  spent: 
His  life  is  neither  tost  in  boist'rons  seas 
Of  troublous  world,  nor  lost  in  slothful  ease ; 
Pleased  and  full  blest  he  lives,  when  he  his  God  can  please." 

Where,  oh  where,  has  this  gentle  shepherd  gone? 
Have  spinning-jennies  swallowed  him  up  ?  Alas !  as 
was  observed  of  Mrs.  Harris,  "  there's  no  sich'n  person." 
Did  he  ever  exist?  We  have  a  strong  suspicion  that 
he  never  did,  save  in  the  imaginations  of  poets. 

Before  the  age  of  railroads  and  sanitary  reformers, 
the  pastoral  life  of  the  Arcadians  was  a  beautiful  myth. 
The  Blue-book  men  have  exploded  it  forever.  The 
agricultural  laborers  have  not  decent  houses — only 
miserable  huts — to  live  in.  They  have  but  few  provis- 
ions for  cleanliness  or  decency.  Two  rooms  for  sleep- 
ing and  living  in  are  all  that  the  largest  family  can  af- 
ford. Sometimes  they  have  only  one.  The  day-room, 
in  addition  to  the  family,  contains  the  cooking  uten- 
sils, the  washing  apparatus,  agricultural  implements, 
and  dirty  clothes.  In  the  sleeping-apartment,  the  par- 
ents and  their  children,  boys  and  girls,  are  indiscrimi- 
nately mixed,  and  frequently  a  lodger  sleeps  in  the 
same  and  only  room,  which  has  generally  no  window — 
the  openings  in  the  half-thatched  roof  admitting  light, 
and  exposing  the  family  to  every  vicissitude  of  the 
weather.  The  husband,  having  no  comfort  at  home, 
seeks  it  in  the  beer-shop.  The  children  grow  up  with- 
out decency  or  self-restraint.  As  for  the  half-hearted 
wives  and  daughters,  their  lot  is  very  miserable. 


3i0  The  Rural  Poor.  [chap.  XV. 

It  is  not  often  tliat  village  affairs  are  made  the  sub- 
ject of  discussion  in  newspapers,  for  the  power  of  the 
press  has  not  yet  reached  remote  country  places.  But 
we  do  hear  occasionally  of  whole  villages  being  pulled 
down  and  razed,  in  order  to  prevent  them  "  becom- 
ing nests  of  beggars'  brats."  A  member  of  Parliament 
did  not  hesitate  to  confess  before  a  Parliamentary  com- 
mittee that  he  "  had  pulled  down  between  twenty-six 
and  thirty  cottages,  which,  had  they  been  left  stand- 
ing, would  have  been  inhabited  by  young  married 
couples."  And  what  becomes  of  the  dispossessed  ? 
They  crowd  together  in  the  cottages  which  are  left 
standing,  if  their  owners  will  allow  it;  or  they  crowd 
into  the  work-houses ;  or,  more  generally,  they  crowd 
into  the  towns,  where  there  is  at  least  some  hope  of 
employment  for  themselves  and  their  children. 

Our  manufacturing  towns  are  not  at  all  what  they 
ought  to  be;  not  sufficiently  pure,  wholesome,  or  well- 
regulated.  But  the  rural  laborers  regard  even  the 
misery  of  towns  as  preferable  to  the  worse  misery  of 
the  rural  districts ;  and  year  by  year  they  crowd  into 
the  seats  of  manufacturing  industry  in  search  of  homes 
and  employment.  This  speaks  volumes  as  to  the  act- 
ual state  of  our  "boasted  peasantry,  their  country's 
pride." 

The  intellectual  condition  of  the  country  laborers 
seems  to  be  on  a  par  with  their  physical  state.  Those 
in  the  Western  counties  are  as  little  civilized  as  the 
poor  people  in  the  east  of  London.  A  report  of  the 
Diocesan  Board  of  the  county  of  Hereford  states  that 
"  a  great  deal  of  the  superstition  of  past  ages  lingers 
in  our  parishes.  The  observation  of  lucky  and  unlucky 
days  and  seasons  is  by  no  means  unusual ;  the  phases 
of  the  moon  are  regarded  with  great  respect — in  one, 
medicine  may  be  taken,  in  another  it  is  advisable  to 
kill  a  pig ;  over  the  doors  of  many  houses  may  be 


CHAP.  XV.]  Healtlnj  Homes.  841 

found  twigs  placed  crosswise,  and  never  suffered  to 
lose  their  cruciforiu  position ;  and  tlie  horseshoe  pre- 
serves its  old  station  on  many  a  stable-door.  Cliarms 
are  devoutly  believed  in ;  a  ring  made  from  a  shilling, 
offered  at  the  communion,  is  an  undoubted  cure  for 
fits;  hair  plucked  from  the  crop  on  an  ass's  shoulder 
and  woven  into  a  chain,  to  be  put  round  a  child's  neck, 
is  powerful  for  the  same  purpose ;  and  the  hand  of  a 
corpse  applied  to  the  neck  is  believed  to  disperse  a 
wen.  The  *'evil  eye,'  so  long  dreaded  in  uneducated 
countries,  has  its  terrors  among  us;  and  if  a  person  of 
ill  life  be  suddenly  called  away,  there  are  generally 
some  who  hear  his  *  tokens,'  or  see  his  ghost.  There 
exists,  besides,  the  custom  of  communicating  deaths  to 
hives  of  bees,  in  the  belief  that  they  invariably  abandon 
their  owners  if  the  intelligence  be  withheld." 

Sydney  Smith  has  said,  with  more  truth  than  ele- 
gance, that  in  the  infancy  of  all  nations,  even  the  most 
civilized,  men  lived  the  life  of  pigs;  and  if  sanitary  re- 
porters had  existed  in  times  past  as  they  do  now,  we 
should  doubtless  have  received  an  account  of  the  act- 
ual existence  and  domestic  accommodation  of  the  old 
English  "  swains  "  and  "  shepherds,"  very  different  from 
that  given  by  Phineas  Fletcher.  Even  the  mechanics 
of  this  day  are  more  comfortably  lodged  than  the  great 
landed  gentrj''  of  the  Saxon  and  Norman  periods;  and 
if  the  truth  could  be  got  at,  it  w^ould  be  found  that, 
bad  as  is  the  state  of  our  agricultural  laborers  now, 
the  condition  of  their  forefathers  v/as  no  better. 

The  first  method  of  raising  a  man  above  the  life 
of  an  animal  is  to  provide  him  with  a  healthy  liome. 
The  home  is,  after  all,  the  best  school  for  the  world. 
Children  grow  up  into  men  and  women  there;  they 
imbibe  their  best  and  tlieir  worst  morality  there ;  and 
their  morals  and  intelligence  are  in  a  great  measure 
well  or  ill  trained  there.     jMen  can  only  be  really  and 


842  Influence  of  the  Home.  [chap.  xv. 

truly  humanized  and  civilized  through  the  institution 
of  the  home.  There  are  domestic  purity  and  moral  life 
in  the  good  home,  and  individual  defilement  and  mor- 
al death  in  the  bad  one. 

The  school-master  has  really  very  little  to  do  with 
the  formation  of  the  characters  of  children.  These  are 
formed  in  the  home  by  the  father  and  mother — by 
brothers,  sisters,  and  companions.  It  does  not  matter 
how  complete  may  be  the  education  given  in  schools. 
It  may  include  the  whole  range  of  knowledge :  yet  if 
the  scholar  is  under  the  necessity  of  daily  returning 
to  a  home  which  is  indecent,  vicious,  and  miserable,  all 
this  learning  will  prove  of  comparatively  little  value. 
Character  and  disposition  are  the  result  of  home  train- 
ing ;  and  if  these  are,  through  bad  physical  and  moral 
conditions,  deteriorated  and  destroyed,  the  intellectual 
culture  acquired  in  the  school  may  prove  an  instru- 
mentality for  evil  rather  than  for  good. 

The  home  should  not  be  considered  merely  as  an 
eating  and  sleeping  place;  but  as  a  place  where  self- 
respect  may  be  preserved,  and  comfort  secured,  and 
domestic  pleasures  enjoyed.  Three-fourths  of  the  pet- 
ty vices  which  degrade  society,  and  swell  into  crimes 
which  disgrace  it,  w^ould  shrink  before  the  influence 
of  self-respect.  To  be  a  place  of  happiness,  exercising 
beneficial  influences  upon  its  members,  and  especially 
upon  the  children  growing  up  within  it,  the  home  must 
be  pervaded  by  the  spirit  of  comfort,  cleanliness,  afiec- 
tion,  and  intelligence.  And  in  order  to  secure  this,  the 
presence  of  a  well-ordered,  industrious,  and  educated 
woman  is  indispensable.  So  much  depends  upon  the 
woman,  that  we  might  almost  pronounce  the  happiness 
or  unhappiness  of  the  home  to  be  woman's  work.  No 
nation  can  advance  except  through  the  improvement 
of  the  nation's  homes ;  and  they  can  only  be  improved 
through  the  instrumentality  of  women.     They  must 


CHAP.  XV.]  Intelligence  of  Women,  843 

Jcnoio  how  to  make  homes  comfortable ;  and  before 
they  can  know,  they  must  have  been  taught. 

Women  must,  therefore,  have  sufficient  training  to 
fit  them  for  their  duties  in  real  life.  Their  education 
should  be  conducted  throughout  with  a  view  to  their 
future  position  as  wives,  mothers,  and  housewives. 
But  among  all  classes,  even  the  highest,  the  education 
of  girls  is  rarely  conducted  with  this  object.  Among 
the  working-people,  the  girls  are  sent  out  to  work; 
among  the  higher  classes,  they  are  sent  out  to  learn  a 
few  flashy  accomplishments ;  and  men  are  left  to  pick 
from  them,  very  often  with  little  judgment,  the  future 
wives  and  mothers  of  England. 

Men  themselves  attach  little  or  no  importance  to  the 
intelligence  or  industrial  skill  of  women  ;  and  they  only 
discover  their  value  when  they  find  their  homes  stu- 
pid and  cheerless.  Men  are  caught  by  the  glance  of  a 
bright  eye,  by  a  pair  of  cherry  cheeks,  by  a  handsome 
figure;  and  when  they  "fall  in  love,"  as  the  phrase 
goes,  they  never  bethink  them  of  whether  the  "  loved 
one"  can  mend  a  shirt  or  cook  a  pudding.  And  yet 
the  most  sentimental  of  husbands  must  come  4own 
from  his  "  ecstatics  "  so  soon  as  the  knot  is  tied ;  and 
then  he  soon  enough  finds  out  that  the  clever  hands  of 
a  woman  are  worth  far  more  than  her  bright  glances ; 
and  if  the  shirt  and  pudding  qualifications  be  absent, 
then  woe  to  the  unhappy  man,  and  woe  also  to  the  un- 
liappy  woman  !  If  the  substantial  element  of  physical 
comfort  be  absent  from  the  home,  it  soon  becomes  hate- 
ful ;  the  wife,  notwithstanding  all  her  good  looks,  is 
neglected ;  and  the  public-house  separates  those  whom 
the  law  and  the  church  have  joined  together. 

Men  are  really  desperately  ignorant  respecting  the 
home  department.  If  they  thought  for  a  moment  of 
its  importance,  they  would  not  be  so  ready  to  rush  into 
premature  housekeeping.    Ignorant  men  select  equally 


844  Unhealthy  Homes.  [CHAP.  xv. 

Ignorant  women  for  their  wives ;  and  these  introduce 
into  the  world  families  of  children  whom  they  are  ut- 
terly incomi^etent  to  train  as  rational  or  domestic  be- 
ings. The  home  is  no  home,  but  a  mere  lodging,  and 
often  a  very  comfortless  one. 

We  speak  not  merely  of  the  poorest  laborers,  but 
of  the  best-paid  workmen  in  the  large  manufacturing 
towns.  Men  earning  from  two  to  three  pounds  a  week 
— 01*  more  than  the  average  pay  of  curates  and  bankers' 
clerks — though  spending  considerable  amounts  on  beer, 
will  often  grudge  so  small  a  part  of  their  income  as 
half  a  crown  a  week  to  provide  decent  homes  for  them- 
selves and  their  children.  What  is  the  consequence  ? 
They  degrade  themselves  and  their  families.  They 
crowd  together,  in  foul  neighborhoods,  into  dwellings 
l^ossessing  no  element  of  health  or  decency;  where 
even  the  small  rental  which  they  pay  is  in  excess  of 
the  accommodation  they  receive.  The  results  are  in- 
evitable—  loss  of  self-respect,  degradation  of  intelli- 
gence, failure  of  physical  health,  and  premature  death. 
Even  the  highest-minded  philosopher,  placed  in  such  a 
situation,  would  gradually  gravitate  toward  brutality. 

But  the  amount  thus  saved,  or  rather  not  expended 
on  house-rent,  is  not  economy ;  it  is  reckless  waste. 
The  sickness  caused  by  the  bad  dwelling  involves  fre- 
quent interruptions  of  work,  and  drains  upon  the  sav- 
ings-bank or  the  benefit  society;  and  a  final  and  rapid 
descent  to  the  poor-rates.  Though  the  loss  to  the  raid- 
die  and  upper  classes  is  great,  the  loss  is  not  for  a  mo- 
ment to  be  compared  with  that  which  falls  upon  the 
working -classes  themselves,  through  their  neglect  in 
providing  wholesome  and  comfortable  dwellings  for 
their  families.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  saying  too  much  to 
aver  that  one-half  the  money  expended  by  benefit  so- 
cieties in  large  towns  may  be  set  down  as  pecuniary 
loss  arising  from  bad  and  unhealthy  homes. 


CHAP.  XV.]        Health  and  Drunkenness,  845 

But  there  is  a  worse  consequence  still.  The  low 
tone  of  physical  health  thereby  produced  is  one  of  the 
chief  causes  of  drunkenness.  Mr.  Chadwick  once  re- 
monstrated with  an  apparently  sensible  workman  on 
the  expenditure  of  half  his  income  on  whisky.  His 
reply  was, "  Do  you,  sir,  come  and  live  here,  and  you 
will  drink  whisky  too."  Mr.  Lee  says:  "I  would  not 
be  understood  that  habits  of  intoxication  are  icholly  due 
to  a  defective  sanitary  condition ;  but  no  person  can 
have  the  experience  I  have  had  without  coming  to  the 
conclusion  that  unhealthy  and  unhappy  homes — loss  of 
vital  and  consequently  of  industrial  energy,  and  a  con- 
sciousness of  inability  to  control  external  circumstances 
— induce  thousands  to  escape  from  miserable  depres- 
sion in  the  temporary  excitement  of  noxious  drugs  and 
intoxicating  liquors.  They  are  like  the  seamen  who 
struggle  for  a  while  against  the  evils  by  which  they  are 
surrounded,  but  at  last,  seeing  no  hope,  stupefy  them- 
selves with  drink,  and  perish." 

It  may  be  said,  in  excuse,  that  working-people  must 
necessarily  occui:)y  such  houses  as  are  to  be  had,  and 
pay  the  rental  asked  for  them,  bad  and  unwholesome 
though  they  be.  But  there  is  such  a  thing  as  supply 
and  demand  ;  and  the  dwellings  now  supplied  are  really 
those  which  are  most  in  demand,  because  of  their  low- 
ness  of  rental.  Were  the  working-classes  to  shun  un- 
wholesome districts  and  low-priced  dwellings,  and  rent 
only  such  tenements  as  were  calculated  to  fultill  the  I'c- 
quirements  of  a  wholesome  and  cleanly  home,  the  own- 
ers of  property  would  be  compelled  to  improve  the 
character  of  their  houses,  and  raise  them  to  the  re- 
quired standard  of  comfort  and  accommodation.  The 
real  remedy  must  lie  with  the  working -classes  them- 
selves. Let  them  determine  to  raise  their  standard  of 
rental,  and  the  reform  is  in  a  great  measure  accom- 
plished. 

15=^ 


346  Wholesome  Dwellings.  [chap.  xv. 

We  have  already  shown  how  masters  have  done  a 
great  deal  for  the  better  accommodation  of  their  work- 
people ;  how  tlie  benefactors  of  the  poor,  such  as  Mr. 
Peabody  and  Lady  Burdett  Coutts,  have  promoted  the 
building  of  healthy  homes.  Yet  the  result  must  de- 
pend upon  the  individual  action  of  the  working-classes 
themselves.  When  they  have  the  choice  of  living  in  a 
dwelling  situated  in  a  healthy  locality,  and  of  another 
situated  in  an  unhealthy  locality,  they  ought  to  choose 
the  former.  But  very  often  they  do  not.  There  is 
perhaps  a  diflerence  of  sixpence  a  week  in  the  rental, 
and,  not  knowing  the  advantages  of  health,  they  take 
the  unhealthy  dwelling  because  it  is  the  cheapest.  But 
the  money  that  sickly  people  have  to  pay  for  physic, 
doctors'  bills,  and  loss  of  wages,  far  more  than  exceeds 
the  amount  saved  by  cheaper  rental,  not  to  speak  of 
the  loss  of  comfort,  the  want  of  cleanliness,  and  the  de- 
pression of  spirits  which  is  inevitable  where  foul  air  is 
breathed. 

To  build  a  wholesome  dwelling  costs  little  more 
than  to  build  an  unwholesome  one.  What  is  wanted 
on  the  part  of  the  builder  are,  a  knowledge  of  sanitary 
conditions,  and  a  willingness  to  provide  the  proper  ac- 
commodation. The  space  of  ground  covered  by  the 
dwelling  is  the  same  in  both  cases;  the  quantity  of 
bricks  and  mortar  need  be  no  greater;  and  pure  air  is 
of  the  same  price  as  foul  air.     Light  costs  nothing. 

A  healthy  home,  presided  over  by  a  thrifty,  cleanly 
woman,  may  be  the  abode  of  comfort,  of  virtue,  and  of 
happiness.  It  may  be  the  scene  of  every  ennobling  re- 
lation in  family  life.  It  may  be  endeared  to  a  man  by 
many  delightful  memories — by  the  affectionate  voices 
of  his  wife,  his  children,  and  his  neighbors.  Such  a 
home  will  be  regarded,  not  as  a  mere  nest  of  common 
instinct,  but  as  a  training-ground  for  young  immortals, 
a  sanctuary  for  the  heart,  a  refuge  from  storms,  a  sweet 


"V 


CHAP.  XV.]  ' Edwiii  Chadwick.  347 

resting-place  after  labor,  a  consolation  in  sorrow,  a 
pride  in  success,  and  a  joy  at  all  times. 

Much  has  been  done  to  spread  the  doctrines  of  sani- 
tary science.  There  is  no  mystery  attached  to  it; 
otherwise  we  should  have  had  professors  teaching  it  in 
colleges,  and  graduates  practicing  it  among  the  people. 
It  is  only  of  recent  years  that  it  has  received  a  nomi- 
nal recognition ;  and  we  owe  it,  not  to  the  medical  fac- 
ulty, but  to  a  barrister,  that  it  has  received  general  rec- 
ognition, and  been  embodied  in  many  important  acts 
of  Parliament. 

Edwin  Chadwick  has  not  yet  received  ordinary 
justice  from  his  contemporaries.  Though  he  has  been 
one  of  the  most  indefatigable  and  successful  workers 
of  the  age,  and  has  greatly  influenced  the  legislation 
of  his  time,  he  is  probably  less  known  than  many  a 
fourth-rate  Parliamentary  talker. 

Mr.  Chadwick  belongs  to  a  Lancashire  family,  and 
was  born  near  Manchester.  He  received  his  educa- 
tion chiefly  in  London.  Having  chosen  the  law  for  his 
profession,  he  was  enrolled  a  student  of  the  Inner 
Temple  in  his  twenty-sixth  year.  There  he  "eat  his 
way"  to  the  bar,  maintaining  himself  by  reporting 
and  writing  for  the  daily  press.  He  was  not  a  man  of 
any  extraordinary  amount  of  learning;  but  he  was  a 
sagacious  and  persevering  man.  He  was  ready  to  con- 
front any  amount  of  labor  in  prosecuting  an  object, 
no  matter  how  remote  its  attainment  might  at  first 
sight  appear  to  be. 

At  an  early  period  in  Iiis  career,  Edwin  Chadwick 
became  possessed  by  an  idea.  It  is  a  great  thing  to 
be  thoroughly  possessed  by  an  idea,  provided  its  aim 
and  end  be  beneficent.  It  gives  a  color  and  bias  to 
the  whole  of  a  man's  life.  The  idea  Was  not  a  new 
one;  but  being  taken  up  by  an  earnest,  energetic,  and 
hard-working  man,  there  was  some  hope  for  the  practi- 


848  Expectancy  of  Life.  [chap.  XV. 

cal  working-out  of  his  idea  in  the  actual  life  of  human- 
ity. It  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  sanitary 
idea — the  germ  of  the  sanitary  movement. 

"We  must  now  briefly  state  how  he  worked  liis  way 
to  its  practical  realization.  It  appears  that  Mr.  Mor- 
gan, the  Government  actuary,  had  stated  before  a  Par- 
liamentary committee,  that  though  the  circumstances 
of  the  middle  classes  had  improved,  their  "  expectation 
of  life"  had  not  lengthened.  This  being  diametrically 
opposed  to  our  student's  idea,  he  endeavored  to  dem- 
onstrate the  fallacy  of  the  actuary's  opinion.  He  read 
up  and  sifted  numerous  statistical  documents — blue- 
books,  life-tables,  and  population-tables.  He  bored  his 
way  through  the  cumbi-ous  pile,  and  brought  an  accu- 
mulation of  facts  from  the  most  unlooked-for  quarters, 
for  the  purpose  of  illustrating  liis  idea  and  elucidating 
his  master-thought. 

The  result  was  published  in  the  Westminster  Itevieio 
for  April,  1828.  Mr.  Chadwick  demonstrated,  by  an 
immense  array  of  facts  and  arguments,  that  the  circum- 
stances which  surround  human  beings  must  have  an 
influence  upon  their  health ;  that  health  must  improve 
with  an  iraprov.ement  of  these  circumstances;  that 
many  of  the  diseases  and  conditions  unfavorable  to 
human  life  were  under  man's  control,  and  capable  of 
being  removed ;  that  the  practice  of  vaccination,  the 
diminution  of  hard  drinking  among  the  middle  and 
upper  classes,  the  increase  of  habits  of  cleanliness,  the 
improvements  in  medical  science,  and  the  better  con- 
struction of  streets  and  houses,  must,  according  to  all 
medical  and  popular  experience,  have  contributed,  a 
2)riori,  to  lengthen  life ;  and  these  he  proved  by  a  ci- 
tation of  fjxcts  from  numerous  authentic  sources.  In 
short,  Mr.  Morgan  was  wrong.  The  "  expectancy  of 
life,"  as  is  now  universally  admitted,  has  improved  and 
is  rapidly  improving  among  the  better  classes;  but  it 


CHAP.  XV.]  The  Poor  Laws.  849 

was  never  thoroughly  demonstrated  until  Edwin  Chad- 
Avick  undertook  the  discussion  of  the  question. 

Another  article,  which  Mr.  Chad  wick  published  in 
the  London  Hevieio  in  1829,  on  "Preventive  Police," 
was  read  by  Jeremy  Bentham,  then  in  his  eighty- 
second  year,  who  so  much  admired  it  that  he  craved 
an  introduction  to  the  Avriter.  The  consequence  was 
the  formation  of  a  friendship  that  lasted  without  in- 
terruption until  the  death  of  the  philosopher  in  1832. 
Mr.  Bentham  wished  to  engage  the  whole  of  his  young 
friend's  time  in  assisting  him  with  tlie  preparation  of 
his  "Administrative  Code,"  and  he  offered  to  place  him 
in  independent  circumstances  if  he  would  devote  him- 
self exclusively  to  the  advancement  of  his  views.  The 
offer  was,  however,  declined. 

Mr.  Chadwick  completed  his  law  studies,  and  was 
called  to  the  bar  in  November,  1830.  lie  was  prepar- 
ing to  enter  upon  the  practice  of  common  law,  occa- 
sionally contributing  articles  to  ihQ  Westminster^  when 
he  was,  in  1832,  appointed  a  commissioner,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  Dr.  Southwood  Smith  and  Mr.  Tooke,  to  in- 
vestigate the  question  of  factory  labor,  which  Lord 
Ashley  and  Mr.  Saddler  were  at  that  time  strongly 
pressing  upon  public  attention.  The  sanitary  idea 
again  found  opportunity  for  expression  in  the  report 
of  the  commission,  which  referred  to  "  defective  drain- 
age, ventilation,  water  supply,"  and  the  like,  as  causes 
of  disease — acting,  concurrently  with  excessive  toil,  to 
depress  the  health  and  shorten  the  lives  of  the  factory 
population. 

In  the  same  year  (1832)  an  in^portant  commission 
of  inquiry  was  a])pointed  by  Lord  Grey's  government 
in  reference  to  the  o])eration  of  the  poor-hiws  in  En- 
gland and  Wales.  Mr.  Chadwick  was  appointed  one 
of  the  assistant  commissioners,  for  the  purpose  of  tak- 
ing evi<lcnco  on  the  subject;  and  the  districts  of  Lon- 


850  The  Sanitary  Idea.  [CHAP.  xv. 

don  and  Berkshire  were  allotted  to  liim.  His  report, 
published  in  the  following  year,  was  a  model  of  what  a 
report  should  be.  It  was  full  of  information,  admira- 
bly classified  and  arranged,  and  was  so  racy,  by  vir- 
tue of  the  facts  brought  to  light,  and  the  care  taken  to 
preserve  the  very  words  of  the  witnesses  as  they  were 
spoken,  that  the  report  may  be  read  with  interest  by 
the  most  inveterate  enemy  of  blue-books. 

Mr.  Chad  wick  showed  himself  so  thoroughly  a  mas- 
ter of  the  subject,  his  suggestions  were  so  full  of 
practical  value,  that  he  was,  shortly  after  the  publica- 
tion of  the  report,  advanced  from  the  post  of  assist- 
ant commissioner  to  that  of  chief  commissioner;  and 
he  largely  shared,  with  Mr.  Senior,  in  the  labors  and 
honors  of  the  commissioners'  report  submitted  to  the 
House  of  Commons  in  1834,  and  also  in  the  famous 
Poor-law  Amendment  Act  passed  in  the  same  year,  in 
which  the  recommendations  of  the  commissioners  were 
substantially  adopted  and  formalized. 

One  may  venture  to  say  now,  without  fear  of  con- 
tradiction, that  that  law  was  one  of  the  most  valuable 
that  has  been  placed  on  the  statute-book  in  modern 
times.  And  yet  no  law  proved  more  unpopular  than 
this  was  for  years  after  it  had  been  enacted.  But  Mr. 
Chad  wick  never  ceased  to  have  perfect  faith  in  the 
soundness  of  the  principles  on  which  it  was  based,  and 
he  was  indefatigable  in  defending  and  establishing  it. 
It  has  been  well  said  that  "to  become  popular  is  an 
easy  thing;  but  to  do  unpopular  justice — that  requires 
a  man."  And  Edwin  Chadwick  is  the  man  who  lias 
never  failed  in  courage  to  do  the  riojht  thine:,  even 
though  it  should  prove  to  be  the  unpopular  thing. 

While  burrowing  amidst  the  voluminous  evidence 
on  the  poor-laws,  Mr.  Chadwick  never  lost  sight  of 
his  sanitary  idea.  All  his  reports  were  strongly  im- 
bued with  it.     One-fourth  of  the  then  existing  pauper- 


CHAP.  XV.]  Fever  in  WJdtecliapel.  851 

ism  was  traced  by  him  to  the  preventible  causes  of 
disease.  His  minute  investigations  into  the  condition 
of  the  laboring  population,  and  of  the  poorer  classes 
generally,  gave  him  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the 
physical  evils  that  were  preying  upon  the  community, 
carrying  them  off  by  fevers,  consumption,  and  cholera ; 
and  the  sanitary  idea  took  still  firmer  possession  of  his 
mind. 

One  day,  in  1838,  while  engaged  in  his  official  vo- 
cation of  Secretary  to  the  Poor-law  Commission,  an 
officer  of  the  Whitechapel  Union  hastily  entered  the 
board-room  of  the  Poor-law  Commission,  and,  with  a 
troubled  countenance,  informed  tlie  secretary  that  a 
terrible  fever  had  broken  out  round  a  stagnant  pool  in 
Whitechapel ;  that  the  people  were  dying  by  scores ; 
and  that  the  extreme  malignity  of  the  cases  gave  rea- 
son to  apprehend  that  the  disease  was  allied  to  Asiatic 
cholera.  On  hearing  this,  the  board,  at  Mr.  Chad  wick's 
instance,  immediately  appointed  Drs.  Arnott,  Kay,  and 
South  wood  Smith  to  investigate  the  causes  of  this 
alarming  mortality,  and  to  report  generally  upon  the 
sanitary  condition  of  London.  This  inquiry  at  length 
ripened  into  the  sanitary  inquiry. 

In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  Chad  wick  had  been  engaged, 
as  a  member  of  the  commission,  to  inquire  as  to  the 
best  means  of  establishing  an  efficient  constabulary 
force  in  England  and  Wales.  The  evidence  was  em- 
bodied in  a  report,  as  interesting  as  a  novel  of  Dick- 
ens's, whicli  aftbrded  a  curious  insight  into  the  modes 
of  living,  the  customs  and  liabits,  of  the  lowest  classes 
of  the  population.  Wlien  this  question  had  been  dis- 
missed, Mr.  Chadwick  proceeded  to  devote  himself  al- 
most exclusively  to  the  great  work  of  his  life — the  san- 
itary movement. 

The  Bishop  of  London,  in  1839,  moved  in  the  Lords 
that  the  inquiry  which  had  been  made  at  Mr.  Chad- 


352  TJie  Sanitary  Inquinj.  [CHAP.  XV. 

Avick's  instance  by  Drs.  Southwood  Smith,  Arnott,  and 
Kay,  into  the  sanitary  state  of  the  metropolis,  should  be 
extended  to  the  whole  population,  city,  rural,  and  man- 
ufacturing, of  England  and  Wales.  Some  residents  in 
Edinburgh  also  petitioned  that  Scotland  might  be  in- 
cluded;  and  accordingly,  in  August,  1839,  Lord  John 
Russell  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Poor-law  Board,  au- 
thorizhig  them  by  royal  command  to  extend  to  the 
whole  of  Great  Britain  the  inquiry  into  preventible 
disease,  which  had  already  been  begun  with  regard  to 
the  metropolis.  The  onerous  task  of  setting  on  foot 
and  superintending  the  inquiry  throughout,  of  sifting 
the  evidence,  and  classifying  and  condensing  it  for 
the  purposes  of  publication,  devolved  upon  Mr.  Chad- 
wick. 

The  first  report  on  the  health  of  towns  was  ready  for 
publication  in  1842.  It  ought  to  have  appeared  as  the 
official  report  of  the  Poor-law  Board ;  but  as  the  com- 
missioners (some  of  whom  were  at  variance  with  Mr. 
Chadwick  with  respect  to  the  new  poor-law)  refused 
to  assume  the  responsibility  of  a  document  that  con- 
tained much  that  must  necessarily  offend  many  influen- 
tial public  bodies,  Mr.  Chadwick  took  the  responsibili- 
ty upon  himself,  and  it  was  published  as  his  report — 
which,  indeed,  it  was — and  accepted  from  him  as  such 
by  the  commissioners. 

The  amount  of  dry,  hard  work  encountered  by  Mr. 
Chadwick  in  the  preparation  of  this  and  his  other  re- 
ports can  scarcely  be  estimated,  except  by  those  who 
know  any  thing  of  the  labor  involved  in  extracting 
from  masses  of  evidence,  written  and  printed,  sent  in 
from  all  parts  of  the  empire,  only  the  most  striking  re- 
sults bearing  upon  the  question  in  liand,  and  such  as 
are  deemed  worthy  of  publication.  The  mountains  of 
paper  which  Mr.  Chadwick  has  thus  bored  through  in 
his  life-time  must  have  been  immense;  and  could  they 


CHAP.  XV.]  Sanitary  Commission.  853 

now  be  presented  before  him  in  one  pile,  they  would 
appall  even  his  stout  heart. 

The  sensation  excited  throughout  the  country  by 
the  publication  of  Mr.  Chadwick's  sanitary  report  was 
immense.  Such  a  revelation  of  the  horrors  lying  con- 
cealed beneath  the  fair  surface  of  our  modern  civiliza- 
tion had  never  before  been  published.  But  Mr.  Chad- 
wick  had  no  idea  of  merely  creating  a  sensation.  He 
had  an  object  in  view,  which  he  persistently  pursued. 
The  report  was  nothing,  unless  its  recommendations 
were  speedily  carried  into  effect.  A  sanitary  party 
was  formed ;  and  the  ministers  for  the  time  being,  aid- 
ed by  members  of  both  sides  in  politics,  became  its  in- 
fluential leaders. 

A  sanitary  commission  was  appointed  in  1844  to 
consider  the  whole  question  in  its  practical  bearings. 
The  commission  published  two  reports  with  a  view  to 
legislation,  but  the  free-trade  struggle  interfered,  and 
little  was  done  for  several  years.  Meanwhile  our  san- 
itary reformer  was  occupied  as  a  commissioner  in  in- 
cjuiring  into  the  condition  of  the  metropolis.  The  com- 
mission published  three  reports,  in  which  the  defective 
drainage,  sewage,  and  water-supply  of  London  were 
discussed  in  detail;  and  these  have  recently  been  fol- 
lowed by  important  acts  of  legislation. 

The  sanitary  idea  at  length  had  its  triumph  in  the 
enactment  of  the  Public  Health  Act  of  1848,  and  the 
appointment  of  a  General  Board  of  Health  (of  which 
Mr.  Chadwick  was  a  member)  to  superintend  its  ad- 
ministration. Numerous  supplemental  measures  liavo 
since  been  enacted,  with  the  view  of  carrying  into 
practical  effect  the  sanitary  principles  adopted  by  the 
board.  Reports  continued  to  be  ])ublis]ied,  from  time 
to  time,  full  of  valuable  information:  for  instance,  in 
reference  to  the  application  of  sewage -water  to  agri- 
cultural purposes ;  on  epidemic  cholera  ;  on  quarantine ; 


854  Sanitary  Science.  [CHAP.  xv. 

on  drainage ;  on  public  lodging-houses ;  and  the  like. 
The  sanitary  movement,  in  short,  became  a  "great 
fact ;"  and  that  it  is  so,  we  have  mainly  to  thank  Ed- 
win Chadwick,  the  missionary  of  the  sanitary  idea.  It 
is  true,  he  was  eventually  dismissed  from  his  position 
of  influence  at  the  Board  of  Health — partly  through 
spleen,  but  chiefly  because  of  his  own  unaccommoda- 
ting nature — unaccommodating  especially  to  petty  lo- 
cal authorities  and  individual  interests  opposed  to  the 
public  good.  But  with  all  thinking -and  impartial  men 
his  character  stands  as  high  as  it  did.  At  all  events, 
his  loorJcs  remain. 

We  do  not  know  a  more  striking  instance  than  that 
presented  by  this  gentleman's  career,  of  the  large 
amount  of  good  which  a  man  strongly  possessed  by  a 
beneficent  idea  can  accomplish,  provided  he  have  only 
the  force  of  purpose  and  perseverance  to  follow  it  up. 
Thousfh  Mr.  Chadwick  has  not  been  an  actual  leofisla- 
tor,  he  has  nevertheless  been  the  mover  of  more  wise 
measures  than  any  legislator  of  our  time.  He  created 
a  public  opinion  in  favor  of  sanitary  reform.  He  has 
also  impressed  the  minds  of  benevolent  individuals 
with  the  necessity  for  providing  improved  dwellings 
for  the  people,  and  has  thus  been  the  indirect  means 
of  establishing  the  Peabody  dwellings,  the  Baroness 
Coutts  dwellings,  and  the  various  societies  for  erecting 
improved  dwellings  for  the  industrial  classes. 

Edwin  Chadwick  has  thus  proved  himself  to  be  one 
of  the  most  useful  and  practical  of  public  benefactors. 
He  deserves  to  be  ranked  with  Clarkson  or  Howard. 
His  labors  have  been  equally  salutary;  some  will  say 
that  they  have  been  much  more  so  in  their  results. 

Sanitary  science  may  be  summed  up  in  the  one  word 
— cleanliness.  Pure  water  and  pure  air  are  its  essen- 
tials. Wherever  there  is  impurity,  it  must  be  washed 
away  and  got  rid  of.     Thus  sanitary  science  is  one  of 


CHAP.  XV.]         Results  of  Uncleanness.  355 

the  simplest  and  most  intelligible  of  all  the  branches 
of  human  knowledge.  Perhaps  it  is  because  of  this 
that,  like  most  common  things,  it  has  continued  to  re- 
ceive so  little  attention.  Many  still  think  that  it  re- 
quires no  science  at  all  to  ventilate  a  chamber,  to  clean 
out  a  drain,  and  to  keep  house  and  person  free  from  un- 
cleanness. 

Sanitary  science  may  be  regarded  as  an  unsavory 
subject.  It  deals  with  dirt  and  its  expulsion  —  from 
the  skin,  from  the  house,  from  the  street,  from  the  city. 
It  is  comprised  in  the  words, "  wherever  there  is  dirt, 
get  rid  of  it  instantly;  and  with  cleanliness  let  there 
be  a  copious  supply  of  pure  water  and  of  pure  air  for 
the  purposes  of  human  health." 

Take,  for  instance,  an  unhealthy  street,  or  block  of 
streets,  in  a  large  town.  There  you  find  typhus  fever 
constantly  present.  Cleanse  and  sewer  the  street,  sup- 
ply it  with  pure  air  and  pure  water,  and  fever  is  forth- 
"with  banished.  Is  not  this  a  much  more  satisfactory  re- 
sult than  the  application  of  drugs  ?  Fifty  thousand  per- 
sons, says  Mr.  Lee,  annually  fall  victims  to  typhus  fever 
in  Great  Britain,  originated  by  causes  which  are  pre- 
ventable. The  result  is  the  same  as  if  these  fifty  thou- 
sand persons  were  annually  taken  out  of  their  wretch- 
ed dwellings  and  put  to  death  !  We  are  shocked  by 
the  news  of  a  murder — by  the  loss  of  a  single  life  by 
physical  causes  !  And  yet  we  hear,  almost  without  a 
shudder,  of  the  reiterated  statement  of  the  loss  of  tens 
of  thousands  of  lives  yearly  from  physical  causes  in 
daily  operation.  The  annual  slaughter  from  prevent- 
able causes  of  typhus  fever  is  double  the  amount  of 
what  was  suffered  by  the  allied  armies  at  the  battle  of 
Waterloo !  By  neglect  of  the  ascertained  conditions 
of  healthful  living,  the  great  mass  of  the  people  lose 
nearly  half  the  natural  period  of  their  lives.  "Ty- 
phus," says  a  medical  ofiiccr,  "  is  a  curse  which  man  in- 


356  ^^ Irish  Fever y  [chap.  XV. 

flicts  upon  himself  by  the  neglect  of  sanitary  arrange- 
ments." 

Mr.  Chadwick  affirmed  that  in  the  cellars  of  Liver- 
pool, Manchester,  and  Leeds  he  had  seen  among  the 
operatives  more  vice,  misery,  and  degradation  than 
those  •which,  when  detailed  by  Howard,  had  excited 
the  sympathy  of  the  world.  The  Irish  poor  sink  into 
the  unhealthy  closes,  lanes,  and  back  streets  of  large 
towns ;  and  so  frequent  are  the  attacks  of  typhus 
among  them  that  in  some  parts  of  the  country  the  dis- 
ease is  known  as  the  "Irish  fever."  It  is  not  merely 
the  loss  of  life  that  is  so  frightful;  there  is  also  the 
moral  death  that  is  still  more  appalling  in  these  un- 
healthy localities.  Vice  and  crime  consort  with  foul 
living.  In  these  places,  demoralization  is  the  normal 
state.  There  is  an  absence  of  cleanliness,  of  decency, 
of  decorum ;  the  language  used  is  polluting,  and  scenes 
of  profligacy  are  of  almost  hourly  occurrence— all  tend- 
ing to  foster  idleness,  drunkenness,  and  vicious  aban- 
donment. Imagine  such  a  moral  atmosphere  for  wom- 
en and  children ! 

The  connection  is  close  and  intimate  between  phys- 
ical and  moral  health,  between  domestic  well-being  and 
public  happiness.  The  destructive  influence  of  an  un- 
wholesome dwelling  propagates  a  moral  typhus  worse 
than  the  plague  itself.  Where  the  body  is  enfeebled 
by  the  depressing  influences  of  vitiated  air  and  bodi- 
ly defilement,  the  mind,  almost  of  necessity,  takes  the 
same  low,  unhealthy  tone.  Self-respect  is  lost ;  a  stu- 
pid, inert,  languid  feeling  overpowers  the  system;  the 
character  becomes  depraved ;  and  too  often — eager  to 
snatch  even  a  momentary  enjoyment,  to  feel  the  blood 
bounding:  in  the  veins  —  the  miserable  victim  flies  to 
the  demon  of  strong  drink  for  relief;  hence  misery,  in- 
famy, shame,  crime,  and  wretchedness. 

This  neglect  of  the  conditions  of  daily  health  is  a 


CHAP.  XV.]  That  Terrible  Nobody  I  357 

frightfully  costly  thing.  It  costs  the  rich  a  great  deal 
of  money,  in  the  shape  of  poor-rates,  for  the  support  of 
widows  made  husbandless,  and  children  made  father- 
less, by  typhus.  It  costs  them,  also,  a  great  deal  in  dis- 
ease ;  for  the  fever  often  spreads  from  the  dwellings 
of  the  poor  into  the  homes  of  the  rich,  and  carries 
away  father,  mother,  or  children.  It  costs  a  great  deal 
in  subscriptions  to  maintain  dispensaries,  infirmaries, 
houses  of  recovery,  and  asylums  for  the  destitute.  It 
costs  the  poor  still  more;  it  costs  them  their  health, 
which  is  their  only  capital.  In  this  is  invested  their 
all :  if  they  lose  it,  their  docket  is  struck,  and  they  are 
bankrupt.  How  frightful  is  the  neglect,  whether  it 
be  on  the  part  of  society  or  of  individuals,  which  robs 
the  poor  man  of  his  health,  and  makes  liis  life  a  daily 
death  ! 

Why,  then,  is  not  sanitary  science  universally  adopt- 
ed and  enforced  ?  V^q  fear  it  is  mainly  through  indif- 
ference and  laziness.  The  local  authorities  —  munici- 
palities and  boards  of  guardians — are  so  many  Mrs. 
Maclartys  in  their  way.  Like  that  dirty  matron,  they 
"canna  be  fashed."  To  remove  the  materials  of  dis- 
ease requires  industry,  constant  attention,  and,  what  is 
far  more  serious,  increased  rates.  The  foul  interests 
hold  their  ground,  and  bid  defiance  to  the  attacks  made 
upon  them.  Things  did  very  well,  they  say,  in  "  the 
good  old  times;"  why  should  they  not  do  so  now? 
When  typhus  or  cholera  breaks  out,  they  tell  us  that 
nobody  is  to  blame. 

That  terrible  Nobody  !  How  much  he  has  to  an- 
swer for!  More  mischief  is  done  by  Nobody  than  by 
all  the  world  besides.  Nobody  adulterates  our  food. 
Nobody  poisons  us  with  bad  drink.  Nobody  supplies 
us  with  foul  water.  Nobody  spreads  fever  in  blind 
alleys  and  unswept  lanes.  Nobody  leaves  towns  un- 
drained.      Nobody  fills  jails,  penitentiaries,  and  con- 


358  Somehodij  is  to  Blmne.  [chap.  xv. 

vict  stations.  Nobody  makes  poachers,  thieves,  and 
drunkards. 

Nobody  has  a  theory,  too  —  a  dreadful  theory.  It 
is  embodied  in  two  words  :  Laissez  faire — Let  alone. 
When  people  are  poisoned  by  plaster  of  Paris  mixed 
with  flour, "  Let  alone"  is  the  remedy.  When  Coccuhis 
Indicus  is  used  instead  of  hops,  and  men  die  premature- 
Ij^it  is  easy  to  say, "Nobody  did  it."  Let  those  who 
can,  find  out  when  they  are  cheated :  Caveat  emptor. 
When  people  live  in  foul  dwellings,  let  them  alone. 
Let  wretchedness  do  its  work;  do  not  interfere  Avith 
death. 

"It  matters  nothing  to  me,"  said  a  rich  man  w^ho 
heard  of  a  poor  woman  and  her  sick  child  being  driven 
forth  from  a  town  for  begging.  The  work-house  au- 
thorities would  have  nothing  to  do  with  her,  and  sent 
her  away.  But  the  poor  woman  went  and  sat  down 
with  her  child  at  the  rich  man's  door;  the  child  died 
there ;  the  contagion  of  typhus  was  wafted  into  the 
gilded  saloon  and  the  luxurious  bed-chamber,  and  the 
rich  man's  child  fell  a  victim  to  the  disease. 

But  Nobody  has  considerably  less  power  in  society 
than  he  once  had ;  and  our  hope  is  that  he  may  ulti- 
mately follow  in  the  wake  of  Old  Bogy,  and  disappear 
altoGrether.  Wherever  there  are  sufferincj  and  social 
depression,  we  may  depend  upon  it  that  somebody  is  to 
blame.  The  responsibility  rests  somewhere  ;  and  if  we 
allow  it  to  remain,  it  rests  with  us.  We  may  not  be 
able  to  cope  with  the  evil  as  individuals,  single-handed ; 
but  it  becomes  us  to  unite,  and  bring  to  bear  upon  the 
evil  the  joint  moral  power  of  society  in  the  form  of  a 
law.  A  law  is  but  the  expression  of  a  combined  will ; 
and  it  does  that  for  society,  which  society,  in  its  indi- 
vidual and  separate  action,  can  not  so  well  or  efficient- 
ly do  for  itself.  Laws  may  do  too  much  ;  they  may 
meddle  with  things  which  ought  to  be  "  let  alone ;"  but 


CHAP.  XV.]     Wholesome  Homes  Necessary.  359 

the  abuse  of  a  thing  is  no  proper  argument  against  its 
use  in  cases  where  its  employment  is  urgently  called 
for. 

Mere  improvement  of  towns,  however,  as  respects 
drainage,  sewerage,  paving,  water-supply,  and  abolition 
of  cellar  dwellings,  will  effect  comparatively  little,  un- 
less we  can  succeed  in  carrying  the  improvement  fur- 
ther— namely,  into  the  homes  of  the  people  themselves. 
A  well -devised  system  of  sanitary  measures  may  in- 
sure external  cleanliness ;  may  provide  that  the  soil  on 
which  the  streets  of  houses  are  built  shall  be  relieved 
of  all  superfluous  moisture,  and  that  all  animal  and 
vegetable  refuse  shall  be  promptly  removed — so  that 
the  air  circulating  through  the  streets,  and  floating 
from  them  into  the  houses  of  the  inhabitants,  shall  not 
be  laden  with  poisonous  miasmata,  the  source  of  dis- 
ease, suflering,  and  untimely  death.  Cellar  dwellings 
may  be  prohibited,  and  certain  regulations  as  to  the 
buildings  hereafter  to  be  erected  may  also  be  enforced. 
But  here  municipal  or  parochial  authority  stops  :  it  can 
go  no  farther;  it  can  not  penetrate  into  the  home,  and 
it  is  not  necessary  that  it  should  do  so. 

The  individual  efforts  of  the  community  themselves 
are  therefore  needed ;  and  any  legislative  enactments 
which  dispensed  with  these  would  probably  be  an  evil. 
The  Government  does  not  build  the  houses  in  which 
the  people  dwell.  These  are  provided  by  employers 
and  by  capitalists,  small  and  large.  It  is  necessary, 
therefore,  to  enlist  these  interests  in  the  cause  of  sani- 
tary improvement,  in  order  to  insure  success. 

Individual  capitalists  have  already  done  much  to 
provide  wholesome  houses  for  their  working -people, 
and  have  found  their  account  in  so  doing  by  their  in- 
creased health,  as  well  as  in  their  moral  improvement 
in  all  ways.  Capitalists  imbued  with  a  benevolent  and 
philanthropic  spirit  can  thus  spread  blessings  far  and 


360  Home  Reform.  [chap.  xv. 

wide.  And  were  a  few  enterprising  builders  in  every 
town  to  take  up  this  question  practically,  and  provide 
a  class  of  houses  for  work-people,  with  suitable  accom- 
modation— provided  with  arrangements  for  ventilation, 
cleanliness,  and  separation  of  the  sexes,  such  as  health 
and  comfort  require — they  would  really  be  conferring 
an  amount  of  benefit  on  the  community  at  large,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  we  believe,  upon  themselves,  which 
it  would  not  be  easy  to  overestimate. 

But  there  also  needs  the  active  co-operation  of  the 
dwellers  in  poor  men's  homes  themselves.  They,  too, 
must  join  cordially  in  the  sanitary  movement ;  other- 
wise comparatively  little  good  can  be  effected.  You 
may  provide  an  efficient  water-supply,  yet  if  the  house- 
wife will  not  use  the  water  as  it  ought  to  be  used,  if 
she  be  lazy  and  dirty,  the  house  will  be  foul  and  com- 
fortless still.  You  may  provide  for  ventilation,  yet  if 
offensive  matters  be  not  removed,  and  doors  and  win- 
dows are  kept  closed,  the  pure  outer  air  will  be  ex- 
cluded, and  the  house  will  still  smell  fusty  and  un- 
wholesome. In  any  case,  there  must  be  a  cleanly 
woman  to  superintend  the  affairs  of  the  house;  and 
she  can  not  be  made  so  by  act  of  parliament.  The 
sanitary  commissioners  can  not,  by  any  "Notifica- 
tion," convert  the  slatternly  shrew  into  a  tidy  house- 
wife, nor  the  disorderly  drunkard  into  an  industrious, 
home -loving  husband.  There  must,  therefore,  be  in- 
dividual effort  on  the  part  of  the  housewife  in  every 
working-man's  home.  As  a  recent  writer  on  home 
reform  observes:  "We  must  begin  by  insisting  that, 
however  much  of  the  physical  and  moral  evils  of  the 
w^orking- classes  may  be  justly  attributable  to  their 
dwellings,  it  is  too  often  the  case  that  more  ought,  in 
truth,  to  be  attributed  to  themselves ;  for,  surely,  the 
inmate  depends  less  on  the  house  than  the  house  on 
the  iimiate,  as  mind  has  more  power  over  matter  than 


CHAP.  XV.]  Domestic  Improvement  S61 

matter  over  mind.  Let  a  dwelling  be  ever  so  poor 
and  incommodious,  yet  a  family  with  decent  and  clean- 
ly habits  will  contrive  to  make  the  best  of  it,  and  will 
take  care  that  there  shall  be  nothing  ofiensive  in  it 
which  they  have  power  to  remove.  Whereas  a  model 
house,  fitted  up  with  every  convenience  and  comfort 
which  modern  science  can  supply,  will,  if  occupied  by 
persons  of  intemperate  and  uncleanly  habits,  speedily 
become  a  disgrace  and  a  nuisance.  A  sober,  indus- 
trious, and  cleanly  couple  will  impart  an  air  of  decency 
and  respectability  to  the  poorest  dwelling ;  while  the 
spendthrift,  the  drunkard,  or  the  gambler  will  convert 
a  palace  into  a  scene  of  discomfort  and  disgust.  Since, 
therefore,  so  much  depends  on  the  character  and  con- 
duct of  the  parties  themselves,  it  is  right  that  they 
should  feel  their  responsibility  in  this  matter,  and  that 
they  should  know  and  attend  to  the  various  points 
connected  with  the  improvement  of  their  own  homes." 

While  this  important  truth  should  be  kej^t  steadily 
in  view,  every  possible  exertion  ought,  at  the  same 
time,  to  be  made  to  provide  a  greater  abundance  of 
comfortable,  decent,  and  comely  dwellings  for  the 
working-classes;  for  it  is  to  be  lamented  that,  in  many 
districts,  they  are,  as  it  w^ere,  forced  by  the  necessities 
of  their  condition  to  gravitate  into  localities  and  to  in- 
habit dwellings  where  decency  is  rendered  almost  im- 
possible, where  life  becomes  a  slow  dying,  and  where 
the  influences  operating  on  the  entire  human  energies, 
physical  and  moral,  are  of  the  most  deleterious  char- 
acter. 

Homes  are  the  manufactories  of  men ;  and  as  the 
homes  are,  so  will  the  men  be.  jNIind  will  be  degraded 
by  the  physical  influences  around  it,  decency  will  be 
destroyed  by  constant  contact  with  imjnirity  and  de- 
filement, and  coarseness  of  manners,  habits,  and  tastes 
will  become  inevitable.     You  can  not  rear  a  kindly 

IG 


362  Dirt  and  Immorality.  [chap.  xv. 

nature,  sensitive  against  evil,  careful  of  proprieties,  and 
desirous  of  moral  and  intellectual  improvement,  amidst 
the  darkness,  dampness,  disorder,  and  discomfort  which 
unhappily  characterize  so  large  a  portion  of  the  dwell- 
ings of  the  poor  in  our  large  towns;  and  until  we 
can,  by  some  means  or  other,  improve  their  domestic 
aQcommodation,  their  low  moral  and  social  condition 
must  be  re2:arded  as  inevitable. 

We  want  not  only  a  better  class  of  dwellings,  but 
we  require  the  people  to  be  so  educated  as  to  appre- 
ciate them.  An  Irish  landlord  took  his  tenantry  out 
of  their  mud-huts,  and  removed  them  into  comfortable 
dwellings  which  he  had  built  for  their  accommodation. 
When  he  returned  to  his  estate,  he  was  greatly  disap- 
pointed. The  houses  were  as  untidy  and  uncomforta- 
ble as  before.  The  pig  was  still  under  the  bed,  and 
the  hens  over  it.  The  concrete  floor  was  as  dirty  as 
the  mud  one  had  been.  The  panes  of  the  windows 
were  broken,  and  the  garden  was  full  of  weeds.  The 
landlord  wrote  to  a  friend  in  despair.  The  friend  re- 
plied, "  You  have  begun  at  the  wrong  end.  You  ought 
to  have  taught  them  the  value  of  cleanliness,  thrifti- 
ness,  and  comfort."  To  begin  at  the  beginning,  there- 
fore, we  must  teach  the  people  the  necessity  of  cleanli- 
ness, its  virtues,  and  its  wholesomeness ;  for  which  pur- 
pose it  is  requisite  that  they  should  be  intelligent,  ca- 
pable of  understanding  ideas  conveyed  in  words,  able 
to  discern,  able  to  read,  able  to  think.  In  short,  the 
people,  as  children,  must  first  have  been  to  school,  and 
properly  taught  there;  whereas  we  have  allowed  the 
majority  of  the  working-people  to  grow  up  untaught, 
nearly  half  of  them  unable  to  read  and  write  ;  and  then 
we  expect  them  to  display  the  virtues,  prudence,  judg- 
ment, and  forethought  of  well-educated  beings  ! 

It  is  of  the  first  importance  to  teach  people  cleanly 
habits.      This   can   be   done   without   teachimij   them 


CHAP.  XV.]  ''Dangerous  Classes^  363 

either  reading  or  writing.  Cleanliness  is  more  than 
wliolesomeness.  It  furnishes  an  atmosphere  of  self-re- 
spect, and  influences  the  moral  condition  of  the  entire 
household.  It  is  the  best  exponent  of  the  spirit  of 
Thrift.  It  is  to  the  economy  of  the  liousehold  what 
hygiene  is  to  the  human  body.  It  should  preside  at 
every  detail  of  domestic  service.  It  indicates  comfort 
and  well-being.  It  is  among  the  distinctive  attributes 
of  civilization,  and  marks  the  progress  of  nations. 

Dr.  Paley  was  accustomed  to  direct  the  particular 
attention  of  travelers  in  foreign  countries  to  the  condi- 
tion of  the  people  as  respects  cleanliness,  and  the  local 
provisions  for  the  prevention  of  pollution.  He  was  of 
opinion  that  a  greater  insight  might  thus  be  obtained 
into  their  habits  of  decency,  self-respect,  and  industry, 
and  into  their  moral  and  social  condition  generally, 
than  from  facts  of  any  other  description.  People  are 
cleanly  in  proportion  as  they  are  decent,  industrious, 
and  self-respecting.  Unclean  people  are  uncivilized. 
The  dirty  classes  of  great  towns  are  invariably  the 
"  dangerous  classes  "  of  those  towns.  And  if  we  would 
civilize  the  classes  yet  uncivilized,  we  must  banish  dirt 
from  among  them. 

Yet  dirt  forms  no  part  of  our  nature.  It  is  a  para- 
site, feeding  upon  human  life,  and  destroying  it.  It 
is  hideous  and  disgusting.  There  can  be  no  beauty 
where  it  is.  The  prettiest  woman  is  made  repulsive 
by  it.  Children  are  made  fretful,  impatient,  and  bad- 
tempered  by  it.  Men  are  degraded  and  made  reckless 
by  it.  There  is  little  modesty  where  dirt  is,  for  dirt  is 
indecency.  There  can  be  little  purity  of  mind  where 
the  person  is  impure ;  for  the  body  is  the  temple  of 
the  soul,  and  must  be  cleansed  and  purified  to  be  worthy 
of  the  shrine  within.  Dirt  has  an  affinity  with  self- 
indulgence  and  drunkenness.  The  sanitary  inquirers 
have  clearly  made  out  that  the  dirty  classes  are  the 


S64:  Worship  in  Washing.  [chap.  xv. 

drunken  classes;  and  that  they  are  prone  to  seek,  in 
the  stupefaction  of  beer,  gin,  and  opium,  a  refuge  from 
the  miserable  depression  caused  by  the  foul  conditions 
in  which  they  live. 

We  need  scarcely  refer  to  the  moral  as  well  as  the 
physical  beauty  of  cleanliness  —  cleanliness  which  in- 
dicates self-respect,  and  is  the  root  of  many  fine  virtues, 
and  especially  of  purity,  delicacy,  and  decency.  We 
might  even  go  further,  and  say  that  purity  of  thought 
and  feeling  results  from  habitual  purity  of  body ;  for 
the  mind  and  heart  of  mlin  are,  to  a  very  great  extent, 
influenced  by  external  conditions  and  circumstances; 
and  habit  and  custom,  as  regards  outward  things,  stamp 
themselves  deeply  on  the  whole  character,  alike  upon 
the  moral  feelings  and  the  intellectual  powers. 

Moses  was  the  most  practical  of  sanitary  reformers. 
Among  the  Eastern  nations  generally,  cleanliness  is  a 
part  of  religion.  They  esteem  it  not  only  as  next  to 
godliness,  but  as  a  part  of  godliness  itself.  They  con- 
nect the  idea  of  internal  sanctity  with  that  of  external 
purification.  They  feel  that  it  would  be  an  insult  to 
the  Maker  they  worship  to  come  into  his  presence  cov- 
ered with  impurity.  Hence  the  Mohammedans  de- 
vote almost  as  much  care  to  the  erection  of  baths  as  to 
that  of  mosques ;  and  along-side  the  place  of  worship 
is  usually  found  the  place  of  cleansing,  so  that  the 
faithful  may  have  the  ready  means  of  purification  pre- 
vious to  their  act  of  worship. 

"  What  worship,"  says  a  great  writer, "  is  there  not  in 
mere  washing !  perhaps  one  of  the  most  moral  things 
a  man,  in  common  cases,  has  it  in  his  power  to  do. 
Strip  thyself,  go  into  the  bath,  or  were  it  into  the  limpid 
pool  of  a  running  brook,  and  there  wash  and  be  clean ; 
thou  wilt  step  out  again  a  purer  and  a  better  man. 
This  consciousness  of  perfect  outer  pureness — that  to 
thy  skin  there  now  adheres  no  foreign  speck  of  imper- 


CHAP.  XV.]       Common  Tilings  at  Home.  865 

fection — how  it  radiates  on  thee,  with  cunning  symbolic 
influences  to  thy  very  soul !  Tliou  hast  an  increased 
tendency  toward  all  good  things  whatsoever.  The 
oldest  Eastern  sages,  with  joy  and  holy  gratitude,  had 
felt  it  to  be  so,  and  that  it  was  the  Maker's  gift  and 
will." 

The  common  well-being  of  men,  women,  and  children 
depends  upon  attention  to  what  at  first  sight  may  ap- 
pear comparatively  trivial  matters.  And  unless  these 
small  matters  be  attended  to,  comfort  in  person,  mind, 
and  feeling  is  absolutely  impossible.  Tlie  physical 
satisfaction  of  a  child,  for  example,  depends  upon  atten- 
tion to  its  feeding,  clothing,  and  washing.  These  are 
the  commonest  of  common  things,  and  yet  they  are  of 
the  most  essential  importance.  If  the  child  is  not  prop- 
erly fed  and  clothed,  it  will  grow  np  feeble  and  ill- 
conditioned.     And  as  the  child  is,  so  will  the  man  be. 

Grown  people  can  not  be  comfortable  without  reg- 
ular attention  to  these  common  matters.  Every  one 
needs,  and  ought  to  have,  comfort  at  home ;  and  com- 
fort is  the  united  product  of  cleanliness,  thrift,  regular- 
ity, industry — in  short,  a  continuous  performance  of 
duties,  each  in  itself  apparently  trivial.  The  cooking 
of  a  potato,  the  baking  of  a  loaf,  the  mending  of  a 
shirt,  the  darning  of  a  pair  of  stockings,  the  making  of 
a  bed,  the  scrubbing  of  a  floor,  the  washing  and  dress- 
ing of  a  baby,  are  all  matters  of  no  great  moment;  but 
a  woman  ought  to  know  how  to  do  all  these  before  the 
management  of  a  household,  however  poor,  is  intrusted 
to  her. 

"  Why,"  asked  Lord  Ashburton  in  a  lecture  to  the 
students  of  the  Wolvesey  training-schools,  "  was  one 
mother  of  a  family  a  better  economist  than  another? 
Why  could  one  live  in  abundance  where  another 
starved  ?  Why,  in  similar  dwellings,  were  the  children 
of  one  parent  healthy,  of  another  puny  and  ailing? 


S66  Knowledge  of  Physiology.       [chap,  x v. 

Why  could  this  laborer  do  with  ease  a  task  that  would 
kill  his  fellow?  It  was  not  luck  or  chance  that  de- 
cided those  diiSTerences ;  it  was  the  patient  observation 
of  nature  that  suggested  to  some  gifted  minds  rules 
for  their  guidance  which  had  escaped  the  heedlessness 
of  others." 

It  is  not  so  mucli,  however,  the  patient  observation 
of  nature,  as  good  training  in  the  home  and  in  the 
school,  that  enables  some  women  to  accomplish  so 
much  more  than  others  in  the  development  of  human 
beings  and  the  promotion  of  human  comfort.  And  to 
do  this  efficiently,  women  as  well  as  men  require  to  be 
instructed  as  to  the  nature  of  tlic  objects  upon  which 
they  work. 

Take  one  branch  of  science  as  an  illustration — the 
physiological.  In  this  science  we  hold  that  every 
woman  should  receive  some  instruction.  And  why? 
Because,  if  the  laws  of  physiology  were  understood  by 
women,  children  would  grow  up  into  better,  healthier, 
happier,  and  probably  wiser,  men  and  women.  Chil- 
dren are  subject  to  certain  physiological  laws,  the  ob- 
servance of  which  is  necessary  for  their  health  and 
comfort.  Is  it  not  reasonable,  therefore,  to  expect  that 
women  should  know  something  of  these  laws,  and  of 
their  operation  ?  If  they  are  ignorant  of  them,  they 
Avill  be  liable  to  commit  all  sorts  of  blunders,  produc- 
tive of  suffering,  disease,  and  death.  To  what  are  we 
to  attribute  the  frightful  mortality  of  children  in  most 
of  our  large  towns,  where  one-half  of  all  that  are  born 
perish  before  they  reach  their  fifth  year?  If  wom- 
en, as  well  as  men,  knew  something  of  the  laws  of 
healthy  living;  about  the  nature  of  the  atmosphere; 
how  its  free  action  upon  the  blood  is  necessary  to 
health  ;  of  tlie  laws  of  ventilation,  cleanliness,  and  nu- 
trition— we  can  not  but  think  that  the  moral,  not  less 
than  the  physical,  condition  of  the  human  beings  com- 


CHAP.  XV.]  Domestic  Economy.  867 

mitted  to  their  charge  would  be  greatly  improved  and 
promoted. 

Were  any  thing  like  a  proper  attention  given  to 
common  things,  there  would  not  be  such  an  amount  of 
discomfort,  disease,  and  mortality  among  the  young. 
But  we  accustom  people  to  act  as  if  there  were  no 
such  provisions  as  natural  laws.  If  we  violate  them,  wc 
do  not  escape  the  consequences  because  we  have  been 
ignorant  of  their  mode  of  operation.  We  have  been 
provided  with  intelligence  that  we  might  Jcnoio  them; 
and  if  society  keep  its  members  blind  and  ignorant, 
the  evil  consequences  will  be  inevitably  reaped.  Thus 
tens  of  thousands  perish  for  lack  of  knowledge  of  even 
the  smallest  and  yet  most  necessary  conditions  of  right 
living. 

Women  have  also  need  to  be  taught  the  important 
art  of  domestic  economy.  If  they  do  not  earn  the 
family  income,  at  least  they  have  to  spend  the  money 
earned ;  and  their  instruction  ought  to  have  a  view 
to  the  spending  of  that  money  wisely.  For  this  pur- 
pose a  knowledge  of  arithmetic  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary. Some  may  say,  "  What  use  can  a  woman  have 
for  arithmetic?"  But  when  men  marry,  they  soon  find 
this  out.  If  the  woman  who  has  a  household  to  man- 
age be  innocent  of  addition  and  multiplication,  and  if 
she  fail  to  keep  a  record  of  her  income  or  expenditure, 
she  will,  before  long,  find  herself  in  great  trouble. 
She  will  find  that  she  can  not  make  the  ends  meet,  and 
then  run  into  debt.  If  she  spend  too  much  on  dress, 
she  will  have  too  little  for  food  or  education.  Slie  will 
commit  extravagances  in  one  direction  or  another,  and 
thus  subject  her  household  to  great  discomfort.  She 
may  also  bring  her  husband  into  trouble  through  the 
debts  she  has  contracted,  and  make  a  beginning  of  his 
misfortunes  and  sometimes  of  his  ruin. 

Much  micrht  be  said  in  favor  of  household  manaG:e- 


868  English  Cookery.  [chap.  xv. 

ment,  and  especially  in  favor  of  improved  cookery.  Ill- 
cooked  meals  are  a  source  of  discomfort  in  many  fami- 
lies. Bad  cooking  is  waste — waste  of  money  and  loss 
of  comfort.  Whom  God  has  joined  in  matrimony,  ill- 
cooked  joints  and  ill-boiled  potatoes  have  very  often 
put  asunder.  Among  the  "common  things"  whicli 
educators  should  teach  the  rising  generation,  this  ought 
certainly  not  to  be  overlooked.  It  is  the  commonest 
and  yet  most  neglected  of  the  branches  of  female  edu- 
cation. 

The  greater  part  of  human  labor  is  occupied  in  the 
direct  production  of  the  materials  for  human  food. 
The  farming- classes  and  their  laborers  devote  them- 
selves to  the  planting,  rearing,  and  reaping  of  oats  and 
other  cereals,  and  the  grazing  farmer  to  the  production 
of  cattle  and  sheep,  for  the  maintenance  of  the  popula- 
tion at  large.  All  these  articles — corn,  beef,  mutton, 
and  such-like — are  handed  over  to  the  female  half  of 
the  human  species  to  be  converted  into  food,  for  the 
sustenance  of  themselves,  their  husbands,  and  their 
families.  How  do  they  use  their  power?  Can  they 
cook?  Have  they  been  taught  to  cook?  Is  it  not  a 
fact  that,  in  this  country,  cooking  is  one  of  the  lost  or 
undiscovered  arts  ? 

Thousands  of  artisans  and  laborers  are  deprived  of 
lialf  the  actual  nutriment  of  their  food,  and  continue 
half  starved,  because  their  wives  are  utterly  ignorant 
of  the  art  of  cooking.  They  are  yet  in  entire  darkness 
as  to  the  economizing  of  food,  and  the  means  of  render- 
ing it  palatable  and  digestible. 

Even  the  middle  classes  are  badly  served  in  this  re- 
spect. "  If  we  could  see,"  says  a  public  writer,  "  by 
the  help  of  an  Asmodeus,  what  is  going  on  at  the  din- 
ner hour  of  the  humbler  of  the  middle  class,  what  a 
spectacle  of  discomfort,  waste,  ill-temper,  and  conse- 
quent  ill-conduct,  it   would  be!     The  man    quarrels 


CHAP.  XV.]  Worthlessness  of  Ill-managing  Wives.     869 

with  his  wife  because  there  is  nothing  he  can  eat,  and 
he  generally  makes  up  in  drink  for  the  deficiencies  in 
tlie  article  of  food.  There  is  thus  not  only  the  direct 
waste  of  food  and  detriment  to  health,  but  the  further 
consequent  waste  of  the  use  of  spirits,  witli  its  injury 
to  the  habits  and  the  healtli." 

On  the  other  hand,  people  who  eat  well,  drink  mod- 
erately ;  tlie  satisfaction  of  the  appetite  dispensing 
with  the  necessity  for  resorting  to  stimulants.  Good- 
humor  too,  and  good  health,  follow  a  good  meal ;  and 
by  a  good  meal  we  mean  any  thing,  however  simple, 
well  dressed  in  its  way.  A  rich  man  may  live  very  ex- 
pensively and  very  ill ;  and  a  poor  man  may  live  fru- 
gally and  very  well,  if  it  be  his  good  fortune  to  have  a 
good  cook  in  his  wife  or  in  his  servant. 

The  most  worthless  unit  in  a  family  is  an  ill-man- 
aging wife,  or  an  indolent  woman  of  any  sort.  The 
fair  sex  are  sometimes  very  acute  in  what  concerns 
themselves.  They  keep  a  tight  hand  over  their  dress- 
makers and  milliners.  They  can  tell  to  a  thread  when 
a  flounce  is  too  narrow  or  a  tuck  too  deep.  But  if 
their  knowledge  only  extends  to  their  own  dress,  they 
are  not  helpmeets,  but  incumbrances.  If  they  know 
nothing  of  their  kitchen,  and  are  at  the  mercy  of  the 
cook,  their  table  will  soon  become  intolerable — bad 
soup,  soft  and  flabby  fish,  meat  burned  outside  and  raw 
within.  The  husband  will  soon  fly  from  the  Barmecide 
feast,  and  take  refuge  in  his  club,  where  he  will  not  only 
find  food  that  he  can  digest,  but  at  the  same  time  fly 
from  the  domestic  discord  that  usually  accompanies  ill- 
cooked  victuals  at  home. 

Mr.  Smee  says  that  "  diseases  of  the  digestive  organs 
greatly  exceed  in  England  the  relative  number  found 
in  other  countries."  The  reason  is,  that  in  no  other 
country  do  men  eat  so  much  ill-cooked  food.  The  least 
observant  of  travelers  must  have  been  struck  with  ad- 

1 G'-' 


370  Foreign  Inns.  [CHAP.  XV. 

miration  at  the  readiness  with  which  a  dinner  of  eight 
or  ten  dishes  of  various  eatables  makes  its  appearance 
in  foreign  inns ;  particularly  when  he  remembers  the 
perpetual  mutton-chop  and  mashed  potatoes  of  the  En- 
glish road.  The  author  remembers  arriving  at  a  road- 
side inn,  in  a  remote  part  of  Dauphiny,  immediately 
under  the  foot  of  the  Pic  de  Midi.  On  lookinsc  at  the 
clay  floor  and  the  worn  state  of  the  furniture,  he  re- 
marked to  his  friend,  "  Surely,  we  can  get  no  dinner 
here."  "  Wait  till  you  see,"  was  his  answer.  In  about 
half  an  hour,  the  table  (though  propped  up)  was  spread 
with  a  clean  table-cloth ;  and  successive  dishes  of  soup, 
fowl,  "ros-bif,"  pommes  de  terre  frites,  French  beans, 
with  wholesome  bread-and-butter,  made  their  appear- 
ance. In  the  principal  inns  of  most  provincial  towns 
in  England,  it  would  not  have  been  possible  to  obtain 
such  a  dinner. 

Great  would  be  the  gain  to  the  community  if  cook- 
ery were  made  an  ordinary  branch  of  female  education. 
To  the  poor  the  gain  would,  be  incalculable.  "Among 
the  prizes  which  the  Bountifuls  of  both  sexes  are  fond 
of  bestowing  in  the  country,  we  should  like  to  see  some 
oiFered  for  the  best  boiled  potato,  the  best  grilled  mut- 
ton-chop, and  the  best  seasoned  hotch-potch  soup,  or 
broth.  In  writing  of  a  well -boiled  potato,  we  are 
aware  that  we  shall  incur  the  contempt  of  many  for 
attaching  importance  to  a  thing  they  suppose  to  be  so 
common.  But  the  fact  is,  that  their  contempt  arises, 
as  is  often  the  origin  of  contempt,  from  their  ignorance, 
there  being  not  one  person  in  a  hundred  who  has  ever 
seen  and  tasted  that  great  rarity, a  well-boiled  potato."* 

In  short,  we  want  common  sense  in  cookery,  as  in 
most  other  things.  Food  should  be  nsed,  and  not 
abused.     Much  of  it  is  now  absolutely  wasted — wasted 

*  Examiner. 


CHAP.  XV.]  Morals  and  Coohenj.  371 

for  want  of  a  little  art  in  cooking  it.  Food  is  not  only- 
wasted  by  bad  cooking ;  but  much  of  it  is  thrown  away 
which  Frenchwomen  would  convert  into  something 
savory  and  digestible.  Health,  morals,  and  family  en- 
joyments are  all  connected  with  the  question  of  cook- 
ery. Above  all,  it  is  the  handmaid  of  Thrift.  It  makes 
the  most  and  the  best  of  the  bounties  of  God.  It 
wastes  nothing,  but  turns  every  thing  to  account.  Ev- 
ery English  woman,  whether  gentle  or  simple,  ought  to 
be  accomplished  in  an  art  which  confers  so  much  com- 
fort, health,  and  wealth  upon  the  members  of  her  house- 
hold. 

"  It  appears  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Margaretta  Grey, "  that 
with  an  increase  of  wealth  unequally  distributed,  and 
a  pressure  of  population,  there  has  sprung  up  among 
us  a  spurious  refinement  that  cramps  the  energy  and 
circumscribes  the  usefulness  of  women  in  the  upper 
classes  of  society.     A  lady,  to  be  such,  must  be  a  lady, 

and  nothing  else Ladies  dismissed  from  the  dairy, 

the  confectionery,  the  store-room,  the  still-room,  the 
poultry-yard,  the  kitchen-garden,  and  the  orchard  [she 
might  have  added,  the  spinning-wheel],  have  hardly  yet 
found  for  themselves  a  sphere  equally  useful  and  im- 
portant in  the  pursuits  of  trade  and  art  to  which  to  ap- 
ply their  too  abundant  leisure. 

"When,  at  any  time,  has  society  2)resented,  on  the 
one  hand,  so  large  an  array  of  respectably  educated 
individuals,  embarrassed  for  want  of  a  proper  calling, 
and,  on  the  other,  so  ponderous  a  multitude  of  untrain- 
ed, neglected  poor,  who  can  not,  without  help,  rise  out 
of  their  misery  and  degradation  ?  What  an  obstruc- 
tion to  usefulness  and  all  eminence  of  character  is  that 
of  being  too  rich,  or  too  genteelly  connected,  to  work 
at  any  thing  !"* 

*  *'  Memoir  of  John  Grey,  of  Dalston,"  p.  290. 


872  Work  for  Ladies.  [chap.  xv. 

Many  intelligent,  high-minded  ladies,  who  have  felt 
disgusted  at  the  idleness  to  which  "  society  "  condemns 
them,  have  of  late  years  undertaken  the  work  of  visit- 
ing the  poor  and  of  nursing — a  noble  work.  But  there 
is  another  school  of  usefulness  which  stands  open  to 
them.  Let  them  study  the  art  of  common  cookery,  and 
diffuse  the  knowledge  of  it  among  the  people.  They 
will  thus  do  an  immense  amount  of  ffood,  and  brings 
down  the  blessings  of  many  a  half- hungered  husband 
upon  their  benevolent  heads.  Women  of  the  poorer 
classes  require  much  help  from  those  who  are  better 
educated,  or  who  have  been  placed  in  better  circum- 
stances than  themselves.  The  greater  number  of  them 
marry  young,  and  suddenly  enter  upon  a  life  for  which 
they  have  not  received  the  slightest  preparation.  They 
know  nothing  of  cookery,  of  sewing,  or  clothes  mend- 
ing, or  of  economical  ways  of  spending  their  husbands' 
money.  Hence  slatternly  and  untidy  habits,  and  un- 
comfortable homes,  from  which  the  husband  is  often 
glad  to  seek  refuge  in  the  nearest  public-house.  The 
following  story,  told  by  Joseph  Corbett,  a  Birmingham 
operative,  before  a  Parliamentary  committee,  holds 
true  of  many  working-people  in  the  manufacturing  dis- 
tricts. 

"  My  mother,"  he  said,  "  worked  in  a  manufactory 
from  a  very  early  age.  She  was  clever  and  industri- 
ous, and,  moreover,  she  had  the  reputation  of  being 
virtuous.  She  was  regarded  as  an  excellent  match  for 
a  working-man.  She  was  married  early.  She  became 
the  mother  of  eleven  children :  I  am  the  eldest.  To 
the  best  of  her  ability  she  performed  the  important 
duties  of  a  wife  and  mother.  But  she  was  lamentably 
deficient  in  domestic  knowledge.  In  that  most  impor- 
tant of  all  human  instruction — how  to  make  the  home 
and  the  fireside  to  possess  a  charm  for  her  husband 
and  children — she  had  never  received  one  single  les- 


CHAP.  XV.]  Josejjh  CorhetCs  Story.  373 

son.  She  had  children  apace.  As  she  recovered  from 
her  lying-in,  so  she  went  to  work,  the  babe  being 
brought  to  her  at  stated  times  to  receive  nourishment. 
As  the  family  increased,  so  every  thing  like  comfort 
disappeared  altogether.  The  power  to  make  home 
cheerful  and  comfortable  was  never  given  to  her.  She 
knew  not  the  value  of  cherishing  in  my  father's  mind 
a  love  of  domestic  objects.  Not  one  moment's  happi- 
ness did  I  ever  see  under  my  father's  roof.  All  this 
dismal  state  of  things  I  can  distinctly  trace  to  the  en- 
tire and  perfect  absence  of  all  training  and  instruction 
to  my  mother.  He  became  intemperate,  and  his  in- 
temperance made  her  necessitous.  She  made  many  ef- 
forts to  abstain  from  shop-work,  but  her  pecuniary  ne- 
cessities forced  her  back  into  the  shop.  The  i\imily 
was  large,  and  every  moment  was  required  at  home. 
I  have  known  her,  after  the  close  of  a  hard  day's  work, 
sit  up  nearly  all  night  for  several  nights  together  wash- 
ing and  mending  clothes.  My  father  could  have  no 
comfort  there.  These  domestic  obligations,  which  in  a 
Avell-regulated  house  (even  in  that  of  a  working-man, 
where  there  are  prudence  and  good  management) 
would  be  done  so  as  not  to  annoy  the  husband,  were 
to  my  father  a  sort  of  annoyance  ;  and  he,  from  an  ig- 
norant and  mistaken  notion,  sought  comfort  in  an  ale- 
house. My  mother's  ignorance  of  household  duties, 
my  father's  consequent  irritability  and  intemperance, 
the  frightful  poverty,  the  constant  quarreling,  the  per- 
nicious example  to  my  brothers  and  sisters,  tlie  bad 
effect  upon  the  future  conduct  of  my  brothers  —  one 
and  all  of  us  being  forced  out  to  work  so  young  that 
our  feeble  earnings  would  produce  only  one  shilling  a 
week — cold  and  hunger,  and  the  innumerable  sufferings 
of  my  childhood,  crowd  upon  my  mind  and  overpower 
me.  They  keep  alive  a  deep  anxiety  for  the  emanci- 
pation of  thousands  of  families  in  this  great  town  (Bir- 


874  Instructloyi  of  Women.  [CHAP.  XV. 

mingbam)  and  neighborhood  who  are  in  a  similar  state 
of  horrible  misery.  My  own  experience  tells  me  that 
the  instruction  of  the  females  in  the  work  of  a  house, 
in  teaching  them  to  produce  cheerfulness  and  comfort 
at  the  fireside,  would  prevent  a  great  amount  of  mis- 
ery and  crime.  There  Av^ould  be  fewer  drunken  hus- 
bands and  disobedient  children.  As  a  working-man, 
within  my  own  observation  female  education  is  dis- 
gracefully neglected.  I  attach  more  importance  to  it 
than  to  any  thing  else ;  for  woman  imparts  the  first 
impressions  to  the  young,  susceptible  mind ;  she  mod- 
els the  child  from  which  is  formed  the  future  man." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    ART    OF   LIVING. 

"Deem  no  man,  in  any  age, 
Gentle  for  his  lineage. 
Though  he  be  not  highly  bora, 
He  is  gentle  if  he  doth 
What  'longeth  to  a  gentleman." — Ciiaucer. 

"Eveiy  one  is  the  son  of  his  own  work." — Cervantes. 

"Serve  a  noble  disposition,  though  poor;  the  time  comes  that  he 
will  repay  thee." — George  Herbert. 

"Although  men  are  accused  for  not  knowing  their  own  weakness, 
yet  perhaps  as  few  know  their  own  strength.  It  is  in  men  as  in  soils, 
where  sometimes  there  is  a  vein  of  gold,  which  the  owner  knows  not 
of."— Savift. 

"  Let  not  what  I  can  not  have. 
My  cheer  of  mind  destroy. " — Gibber. 

THE  art  of  living  deserves  a  place  among  the  fine 
arts.  Like  literature,  it  may  be  ranked  with  the 
liuraanities.  It  is  the  art  of  turning  the  means  of 
living  to  the  best  account — of  making  the  best  of  ev- 
ery thing.  It  is  the  art  of  extracting  from  life  its  high- 
est enjoyment,  and,  through  it,  of  reaching  its  highest 
results. 

To  live  happily,  the  exercise  of  no  small  degree  of 
art  is  required.  Like  poetry  and  painting,  the  art  of 
living  comes  chiefly  by  nature ;  but  all  can  cultivate 
and  develop  it.  It  can  be  fostered  by  parents  and 
teachers,  and  perfected  by  self  culture.  Without  intel- 
ligence it  can  not  exist. 

Happiness  is  not,  like  a  large  and  beautiful  gem,  so 
uncommon  and  rare  that  all  search  for  it  is  vain,  all 


876  Art  of  Living  Exem;plijied.     [chap.  xvi. 

efforts  to  obtain  it  hopeless;  but  it  consists  of  a  series 
of  smaller  and  commoner  gems,  grouped  and  set  to- 
gether, forming  a  pleasing  and  graceful  whole.  Hap- 
piness consists  in  the  enjoyment  of  little  pleasures 
scattered  along  the  common  path  of  life,  which,  in  the 
eager  search  for  some  great  and  exciting  joy,  we  are 
apt  to  overlook.  It  finds  delight  in  the  performance 
of  common  duties,  faithfully  and  honorably  fulfilled. 

The  art  of  living  is  abundantly  exemplified  in  actual 
life.  Take  two  men  of  equal  means,  one  of  whom 
knows  the  art  of  living,  and  the  other  not.  The  one 
has  the  seeing  eye  and  the  intelligent  mind.  Nature 
is  ever  new  to  him,  and  full  of  beauty.  He  can  live  in 
the  present,  rehearse  the  past,  or  anticipate  the  glory 
of  the  future.  With  him  life  has  a  deep  meaning, 
and  requires  the  performance  of  duties  which  are  sat- 
isfactory to  his  conscience,  and  are  therefore  pleasur- 
able. He  improves  himself,  acts  upon  his  age,  helps  to 
elevate  the  depressed  classes,  and  is  active  in  every 
good  work.  His  hand  is  never  tired,  his  mind  is  never 
weary.  He  goes  through  life  joyfully,  helping  others 
to  its  enjoyment.  Intelligence,  ever  expanding,  gives 
him  every  day  fresh  insight  into  men  and  things.  He 
lays  down  his  life  full  of  honor  and  blessing,  and  his 
greatest  monument  is  the  good  deeds  he  has  done,  and 
the  beneficent  example  he  has  set  before  his  fellow- 
creatures. 

The  other  has  comparatively  little  pleasure  in  life. 
He  has  scarcely  reached  manhood  ere  he  has  exhausted 
its  enjoyments.  Money  has  done  every  thing  that  it 
could  for  him,  yet  he  feels  life  to  be  vacant  and  cheer- 
less. Traveling  does  him  no  good,  for,  for  him,  history 
has  no  meaning.  He  is  only  alive  to  the  impositions 
of  innkeepers  and  couriers,  and  the  disagreeableness 
of  traveling  for  days  amidst  great  mountains,  among 
peasants  and  sheep,  cramped  up  in  a  carriage.     Picture- 


CHAP,  xvl]  Taste  an  Economist:  877 

galleries  he  feels  to  be  a  bore,  and  he  looks  into  them 
because  other  people  do.  These  "  pleasures  "  soon  tire 
him,  and  he  becomes  blase.  When  he  grows  old,  and 
has  run  the  round  of  fashionable  dissipations,  and  there 
is  nothing  left  which  he  can  relish,  life  becomes  a  mas- 
querade, in  which  he  recognizes  only  knaves,  hypocrites, 
and  flatterers.  Though  he  does  not  enjoy  life,  yet  he 
is  terrified  to  leave  it.  Then  the  curtain  falls.  With 
all  his  wealth,  life  has  been  to  him  a  failure,  for  he  has 
not  known  the  art  of  living,  without  which  life  can  not 
be  enjoyed. 

It  is  not  wealth  that  gives  the  true  zest  to  life,  but 
reflection,  appreciation,  taste,  culture.  Above  all,  the 
seeing  eye  and  the  feeling  heart  are  indispensable. 
With  these,  the  humblest  lot  may  be  made  blessed. 
Labor  and  toil  may  be  associated  with  the  highest 
thoughts  and  the  purest  tastes.  The  lot  of  labor  may 
thus  become  elevated  and  ennobled.  Montaigne  ob- 
serves that  "  all  moral  philosophy  is  as  applicable  to  a 
vulgar  and  private  life  as  to  the  most  splendid.  Ev- 
ery man  carries  the  entire  form  of  the  human  condi- 
tion within  him." 

Even  in  material  comfort,  good  taste  is  a  real  econo- 
mist, as  well  as  an  enhancer  of  joy.  Scarcely  have 
you  passed  the  door-step  of  your  friend's  house,  when 
you  can  detect  w^hether  taste  presides  within  it  or  not. 
There  is  an  air  of  neatness,  order,  arrangement,  grace, 
and  refinement,  that  gives  a  thrill  of  pleasure,  though 
you  can  not  define  it  or  explain  how  it  is.  There  is  a 
flower  in  the  window,  or  a  picture  against  the  wall, 
that  marks  the  home  of  taste.  A  bird  sings  at  the 
window-sill ;  books  lie  about ;  and  the  furniture,  though 
common,  is  tidy,  suitable,  and,  it  may  be,  even  elegant. 

The  art  of  living  extends  to  all  the  economies  of  the 
liousehold.  It  selects  wholesome  food,  and  serves  it 
with  taste.     There  is  no  profusion  ;  the  f:ire  may  be 


878  Contrasts  in  Cottage  Life.       [chap.  xvi. 

very  humble,  but  it  has  a  savor  about  it ;  every  thing 
is  so  clean  and  neat,  the  water  so  sparkles  in  the  glass, 
that  you  do  not  desire  richer  viands  or  a  more  exciting 
beverage. 

Look  into  another  house,  and  you  will  see  profusion 
enough,  without  either  taste  or  order.  The  expendi- 
ture is  larger,  and  yet  you  do  not  feel  "  at  home " 
there.  The  atmosphere  seems  to  be  full  of  discomfort. 
Books,  hats,  shawls,  and  stockings  in  course  of  repair, 
are  strewed  about.  Two  or  three  chairs  are  loaded 
with  goods.  Tlie  rooms  are  hugger-mugger.  No 
matter  how  much  money  is  spent,  it  does  not  mend 
matters.  Taste  is  wanting,  for  the  manager  of  the 
household  has  not  yet  learned  the  art  of  living. 

You  see  the  same  contrast  in  cottage-life.  The  lot 
of  poverty  is  sweetened  by  taste.  It  selects  the  health- 
iest, openest  neighborhood,  where  the  air  is  pure  and 
the  streets  are  clean.  You  see,  at  a  glance,  by  the 
sanded  door-step,  and  the  window-panes  without  a 
speck — perhaps  blooming  roses  or  geraniums  shining 
through  them — that  the  tenant  within,  however  poor, 
knows  the  art  of  making  the  best  of  his  lot.  How  dif- 
ferent from  the  foul  cottage- dwellings  you  see  else- 
where, with  the  dirty  children  playing  in  the  gutters, 
the  slattern -like  women  lounging  by  the  door-cheek, 
and  the  air  of  sullen  poverty  that  seems  to  pervade 
the  place !  And  yet  the  weekly  income  in  the  former 
home  may  be  no  greater,  perhaps  even  less,  than  in 
the  other. 

How  is  it  that  of  two  men  working  in  the  same  field 
or  in  the  same  shop,  one  is  merry  as  a  lark;  always 
cheerful,  well-clad,  and  as  clean  as  his  work  will  allow 
him  to  be ;  comes  out  on  Sunday  mornings  in  his  best 
suit  to  go  to  church  with  his  family ;  is  never  without 
a  penny  in  his  purse,  and  has  something  besides  in  the 
savings-bank;  is  a  reader  of  books  and  a  subscriber  to 


CHAP.  XVI.]        Difference  in  WorJcmen.  879 

a  newspaper,  besides  taking  in  some  literary  journal 
for  family  reading:  while  the  other  man,  w4th  equal 
or  even  superior  weekly  wages,  comes  to  work  in  the 
mornings  sour  and  sad;  is  always  full  of  grumbling; 
is  badly  clad  and  badly  shod ;  is  never  seen  out  of  his 
house  on  Sundays  till  about  midday,  when  he  appears 
in  his  shirt -sleeves,  his  face  unwashed,  his  hair  un- 
kempt, his  eyes  bleared  and  bloodshot ;  his  children 
left  to  run  about  the  gutters,  witli  no  one,  apparently, 
to  care  for  them;  is  always  at  his  last  coin,  except  on 
Saturday  night,  and  then  lie  lias  a  long  score  of  bor- 
rowings to  repay;  belongs  to  no  club,  has  nothing 
saved,  but  lives  literally  from  hand  to  mouth ;  reads 
none,  thinks  none,  but  only  toils,  eats,  drinks,  and 
sleeps — why  is  it  that  there  is  so  remarkable  a  differ- 
ence between  these  two  men? 

Simply  for  this  reason :  that  the  one  has  the  intelli- 
gence and  the  art  to  extract  joy  and  happiness  from 
life ;  to  be  happy  himself,  and  to  make  those  about 
him  happy;  whereas  the  other  has  not  cultivated  his 
intelligence,  and  knows  nothing  whatever  of  the  art  of 
either  making  himself  or  his  family  happy.  With  the 
one,  life  is  a  scene  of  loving,  helping,  and  sympathiz- 
ing ;  of  carefulness,  forethought,  and  calculation ;  of 
reflection,  action,  and  duty :  with  the  other,  it  is  only 
a  rough  scramble  for  meat  and  drink;  duty  is  not 
thought  of,  reflection  is  banished,  prudent  forethought 
is  never  for  a  moment  entertained. 

But  look  to  the  result :  the  former  is  respected  by 
liis  fellow-workmen  and  beloved  by  his  family ;  he  is 
an  example  of  well-being  and  well-doing  to  all  who  are 
within  reach  of  his  influence :  whereas  the  other  is  as 
unreflectivc  and  miserable  as  nature  will  allow  him  to 
be ;  he  is  shunned  by  good  men  ;  his  family  are  afraid 
at  the  sound  of  his  footsteps,  liis  wife  perhaps  trem- 
bling at  his  approach ;  he  dies  without  leaving  any  re- 


880  Living  at  Home.  [chap.  xvi. 

grets  behind  him,  except,  it  may  be,  on  the  part  of  his 
family,  who  are  left  to  be  maintained  by  the  charity  of 
the  public,  or  by  the  pittance  doled  out  by  the  over- 
seers. 

For  these  reasons,  it  is  worth  every  man's  while  to 
study  the  important  art  of  living  happily.  Even  the 
poorest  man  may  by  this  means  extract  an  increased 
amount  of  joy  and  blessing  from  life.  The  world  need 
not  be  "a  vale  of  tears,"  unless  we  ourselves  will  it  to 
be  so.  We  have  the  command,  to  a  great  extent,  over 
our  own  lot.  At  all  events,  our  mind  is  our  own  pos- 
session ;  we  can  cherish  happy  thoughts  there ;  we  can 
regulate  and  control  our  tempers  and  dispositions  to 
a  considerable  extent ;  we  can  educate  ourselves,  and 
bring  out  the  better  part  of  our  nature,  which  in  most 
men  is  allowed  to  sleep  a  deep  sleep ;  we  can  read  good 
books,  cherish  pure  thoughts,  and  lead  lives  of  peace, 
temperance,  and  virtue,  so  as  to  secure  the  respect  of 
good  men,  and  transmit  the  blessing  of  a  faithful  ex- 
ample to  our  successors. 

The  art  of  living  is  best  exhibited  in  the  home.  The 
first  condition  of  a  happy  home,  where  good  influences 
prevail  over  bad  ones,  is  comfort.  Where  there  are 
carking  cares,  querulousness,  untidiness,  slovenliness, 
and  dirt,  there  can  be  little  comfort  either  for  man  or 
woman.  The  husband  who  has  been  working  all  day 
expects  to  have  something  as  a  compensation  for  his 
toil.  The  least  that  his  wife  can  do  for  him  is  to 
make  his  house  snug,  clean,  and  tidy,  against  his  home- 
coming at  eve.  That  is  the  truest  economy,  the  best 
housekeeping,  the  worthiest  domestic  management, 
which  makes  the  home  so  pleasant  and  agreeable  that 
a  man  feels,  when  approaching  it,  that  he  is  about  to 
enter  a  sanctuary;  and  that  when  there,  there  is  no 
ale-house  attraction  that  can  draw  him  away  from  it. 

Some  say  that  we  worshij^  comfort  too  much.     The 


CHAP,  xvl]  Home  and  Comfort.  881 

word  is  essentially  English,  and  is  said  to  be  untrans- 
latable, in  its  full  meaning,  into  any  foreign  language. 
It  is  intimately  connected  with  the  fireside.  In  warm- 
er climes,  people  contrive  to  live  out-of-doors.  Tliey 
sun  themselves  in  the  streets.  Half  their  life  is  in  pub- 
lic. The  genial  air  wooes  them  forth,  and  keeps  them 
abroad.  They  enter  their  houses  merely  to  eat  and 
sleep.     They  can  scarcely  be  said  to  live  there. 

IIow  diflerent  is  it  with  us !  The  raw  air  without, 
during  so  many  mouths  of  the  year,  drives  us  within- 
doors. Hence  we  cultivate  all  manner  of  home  pleas- 
ures. Hence  the  host  of  delightful  associations  which 
rise  up  in  the  mind  at  the  mention  of  the  word  home. 
Hence  our  household  god.  Comfort. 

We  are  not  satisfied  merely  with  a  home.  It  must 
be  comfortable.  The  most  wretched,  indeed,  are  those 
who  have  no  homes  —  the  homeless!  But  not  less 
wretched  are  those  whose  homes  are  witliout  comfort 
— those  of  whom  Charles  Lamb  once  said,  "  The  homes 
of  the  very  poor  are  no  homes."  It  is  comfort,  then, 
that  is  the  soul  of  the  home  —  its  essential  principle, 
its  vital  element. 

Comfort  does  not  mean  merely  warmth,  good  fur- 
niture, ofQod  eatinc:  and  drinkinix.  It  means  somethincr 
higher  than  this.  It  means  cleanliness,  pure  air,  order, 
frugality ;  in  a  word,  house-thrift  and  domestic  govern- 
ment. Comfort  is  tlie  soil  in  which  the  human  being 
grows,  not  only  physically,  but  morally.  Comfort  lies, 
indeed,  at  the  root  of  many  virtues. 

"Wealth  is  not  necessary  for  comfort.  Luxury  re- 
quires wealth,  but  not  comfort.  A  poor  man's  home, 
moderately  supplied  with  the  nccessai'ics  of  life,  pre- 
sided over  by  a  cleanly,  frugal  housewife,  may  con- 
tain all  the  elements  of  comfortable  living.  Com- 
fortlessncss  is  for  the  most  part  caused,  not  so  much 
by   the   absence   of  sufficient   means   as   by   the   ab- 


382  Comfortable  People.  [chap.  xvi. 

sence  of  the  requisite  knowledge  of  domestic  manage- 
ment. 

Comfort,  it  must  be  admitted,  is  in  a  great  measure 
relative.  What  is  comfort  to  one  man  would  be  mis- 
ery to  another.  Even  the  commonest  mechanic  of  this 
day  would  consider  it  miserable  to  live  after  the  style 
of  tlie  nobles  a  few  centuries  ago — to  sleep  on  straw 
beds,  and  live  in  rooms  littered  with  rushes.  AYilliam 
the  Conqueror  had  neither  a  shirt  to  his  back  nor  a 
pane  of  ghass  to  his  windows.  Queen  Elizabeth  was 
one  of  the  first  to  wear  stockings.  All  the  queens  be- 
fore her  Avere  stockingless. 

Comfort  depends  as  much  on  persons  as  on  "  things." 
It  is  out  of  the  character  and  temper  of  those  who  gov- 
ern homes  that  the  feeling  of  comfort  arises,  much  more 
than  out  of  handsome  furniture,  heated  rooms,  or  liouse- 
liold  luxuries  and  conveniences. 

Comfortable  people  are  kindly- tempered.  Good- 
temper  may  be  set  down  as  an  invariable  condition  of 
comfort.  There  must  be  peace,  mutual  forbearance, 
mutual  help,  and  a  disposition  to  make  the  best  of  ev- 
ery thing.  "Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs  where  love  is 
than  a  stalled  ox  and  hatred  therewith." 

Comfortable  people  are  persons  of  common  sense, 
discretion,  prudence,  and  economy.  They  have  a  nat- 
ural affinity  for  honesty  and  justice,  goodness  and 
truth.  They  do  not  run  into  debt,  for  that  is  a  species 
of  dishonesty.  They  live  within  their  means,  and  lay 
by  something  for  a  rainy  day.  They  provide  for  the 
things  of  their  own  household,  yet  they  are  not  want- 
ing in  hospitality  and  benevolence  on  fitting  occasions. 
And  what  they  do  is  done  without  ostentation. 

Comfortable  people  do  every  thing  in  order.  They 
are  systematic,  steady,  sober,  industrious.  They  dress 
comfortably.  They  adapt  themselves  to  the  season — 
neither  shivering  in  winter,  nor  perspiring  in  summer. 


CHAP.  XVI.]      Beneficence  of  House-thrift.  383 

They  do  not  toil  after  a  "fashionable  appearance." 
They  expend  more  on  warm  stockings  than  on  gold 
rings,  and  prefer  healthy,  good  bedding  to  gaudy  win- 
dow-curtains. Their  cliairs  are  solid,  not  gimcrack. 
They  will  bear  sitting  upon,  though  they  may  not  be 
ornamental. 

The  organization  of  the  home  depends,  for  the  most 
part,  upon  woman.  She  is  necessarily  the  manager  of 
every  family  and  household.  How  much,  therefore, 
must  depend  upon  her  intelligent  co-operation  !  Man's 
life  revolves  round  woman.  She  is  the  sun  of  his  social 
system.  She  is  the  queen  of  domestic  life.  The  com- 
fort of  every  home  mainly  depends  upon  her — upon  her 
character,  her  temper,  her  power  of  organization,  and 
her  business  management.  A  man  may  be  economical, 
but  unless  there  be  economy  at  home  his  frugality  will 
be  comparatively  useless.  "A  man  can  not  thrive," 
the  proverb  says,  "  unless  his  wife  let  him." 

House-thrift  is  homely,  but  beneficent.  Though  un- 
seen of  the  world,  it  makes  many  people  happy.  It 
Avorks  upon  individuals ;  and  by  elevating  them  it  ele- 
vates society  itself.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  receipt  of  infallible 
efficacy  for  conferring  the  greatest  possible  happiness 
upon  the  greatest  possible  number.  Without  it,  legis- 
lation, benevolence,  and  philanthropy  are  mere  pallia- 
tives ;  sometimes  worse  than  useless,  because  they  hold 
out  hopes  which  are  for  the  most  part  disappointed. 

How  happy  does  a  man  go  forth  to  his  labor  or  his 
business,  and  how  doubly  happy  does  he  return  from  it, 
when  he  knows  that  his  means  are  carefully  husbanded 
and  wisely  applied  by  a  judicious  and  well- managing 
wife  !  Such  a  woman  is  not  only  a  power  in  her  own 
house,  but  her  example  goes  forth  among  her  neigh- 
bors, and  she  stands  before  them  as  a  model  and  a  pat- 
tern. The  habits  of  her  children  are  formed  after  her 
habits;  her  actual  life  becomes  the  model  after  which 


384  Organization  and  Metliod.      [CHAP.  xvi. 

they  unconsciously  mold  themselves ;  for  example  al- 
ways speaks  more  eloquently  than  words  :  it  is  instruc- 
tion in  action — wisdom  at  work. 

First  among  woman's  qualities  is  the  intelligent  use 
of  her  hands  and  fingers.  Every  one  knows  how  use- 
ful, how  indispensable  to  the  comfort  of  a  household, 
is  the  tidy,  managing,  handy  woman.  Pestalozzi,  with 
his  usual  sagacity,  has  observed  that  half  the  education 
of  a  woman  comes  throuo;h  her  finsrers.  There  are  wis- 
dom  and  virtue  at  her  finger-ends.  But  intellect  must 
also  accompany  thrift :  they  must  go  hand-in-hand.  A 
woman  must  not  only  be  clever  with  her  fingers,  but 
possessed  of  the  power  of  organizing  household  work. 

There  must  be  method.  The  late  Sir  Arthur  Helps 
observed  that, "  as  women  are  at  present  educated,  they 
are  for  the  most  part  thoroughly  deficient  in  method. 
But  this  surely  might  be  remedied  by  training.  To 
take  a  very  humble  and  simple  instance:  "Why  is  it 
that  a  man-cook  is  always  better  than  a  woman-cook? 
Simply  because  a  man  is  more  methodical  in  his  ar- 
rangements, and  relies  more  upon  his  weights  and 
measures.  An  eminent  physician  told  me  that  he 
thought  women  were  absolutely  deficient  in  the  ap- 
preciation of  time.  But  this  I  hold  to  be  merely  one 
instance  of  their  general  want  of  accuracy,  for  which 
there  are  easy  remedies — that  is,  easy  if  begun  early 
enough." 

Accordingly,  to  manage  a  household  efiiciently,  there 
must  be  method.  Without  this,  work  can  not  be  got 
through  satisfiictorily,  either  in  offices,  workshops,  or 
households.  By  arranging  work  projDcrly,  by  doing 
every  thing  at  the  right  time,  with  a  view  to  the  econ- 
omy of  labor,  a  large  amount  of  business  can  be  accom- 
plished. Muddle  flies  before  method,  and  hugger-mug- 
ger disappears.  There  is  also  a  method  in  spending 
—  in  laying  out  money  —  which  is  as  valuable  to  the 


CHAP.  XVI.]     Industry  and  Punctucdily.  385 

housewife  as  method  is  in  accomplishing  her  work. 
Money  slips  through  the  fingers  of  some  people  like 
quicksilver.  We  have  already  seen  that  many  men  are 
spendthrifts.  But  many  women  are  the  same  :  at  least 
they  do  not  know  how  to  expend  their  husband's  earn- 
ings to  the  best  advantage.  You  observe  things  very 
much  out  of  place— frills  and  ruffles  and  ill -darned 
stockings,  fine  bonnets  and  clouted  shoes,  silk  gowns 
and  dirty  petticoats ;  while  the  husband  goes  about 
ragged  and  torn,  with  scarcely  a  clean  thing  about  him. 

industry  is,  of  course,  essential.  This  is  the  soul  of 
business ;  but  without  method,  industry  will  be  less 
productive.  Industry  may  sometimes  look  like  confu- 
sion ;  but  the  methodical  and  industrious  woman  gets 
through  her  work  in  a  quiet,  steady  style — without  fuss, 
or  noise,  or  dust-clouds. 

Prudence  is  another  important  household  qualifica- 
tion. Prudence  comes  from  cultivated  judgment :  it 
means  practical  wisdom.  It  has  reference  to  fitness,  to 
propriety  ;  it  judges  of  the  right  thing  to  be  done,  and 
of  the  right  w^ay  of  doing  it.  It  calculates  the  means, 
order,  time,  and  method  of  doing.  Prudence  learns 
much  from  experience,  quickened  by  knowledge. 

Punctuality  is  another  eminently  household  qualifica- 
tion. How  many  grumblings  w^ould  be  avoided  in  do- 
mestic life  by  a  little  more  attention  being  paid  to  this 
virtue.  Late  breakfasts  and  late  dinners — "  too  late  " 
for  church  and  market ;  "  cleanings  "  out  of  time,  and 
"  washings "  protracted  till  midnight ;  bills  put  off 
with  a  "  call  again  to  -  morrow  j"  engagements  and 
promises  unfulfilled  —  what  a  host  of  little  nuisances 
spring  to  mind  at  thought  of  tlie  unpunctual  house- 
wife !  The  unpunctual  woman,  like  the  unpunctual 
man,  becomes  disliked,  because  she  consumes  our  time, 
interferes  with  our  plans,  causes  uneasy  feelings,  and 
virtually  tells  us  that  we  are  not  of  sufticient  impor- 

17 


386  Management  of  Temper.       [chap.  xvi. 

tance  to  cause  her  to  be  more  punctual.  To  the  busi- 
ness man  time  is  money,  and  to  the  business  woman  it 
is  more — it  is  peace,  comfort,  and  domestic  prosperity. 

Perseverance  is  another  good  household  habit.  Lay 
down  a  good  plan,  and  adhere  to  it.  Do  not  be  turned 
from  it  without  a  sufficient  reason.  Follow  it  diligent- 
ly and  faithfully,  and  it  will  yield  fruits  in  good  season. 
If  the  plan  be  a  prudent  one,  based  on  practical  wis- 
dom, all  things  will  gravitate  toward  it,  and  a  mutual 
dependence  will  gradually  be  established  among  all 
the  parts  of  the  domestic  system. 

We  might  furnish  numerous  practical  illustrations 
of  the  truth  of  these  remarks,  but  our  space  is  nearly 
filled  up,  and  we  must  leave  the  reader  to  supply  them 
from  his  or  her  own  experience. 

There  are  many  other  illustrations  which  might  be 
adduced  of  the  art  of  making  life  happy.  The  man- 
agement of  the  temper  is  an  art  full  of  beneficent  re- 
sults. By  kindness,  cheerfulness,  and  forbearance  we 
can  be  happy  almost  at  will,  and  at  the  same  time 
spread  happiness  about  us  on  every  side.  We  can  en- 
courage happy  thoughts  in  ourselves  and  others.  We 
can  be  sober  in  habit.  What  can  a  wife  and  her  chil- 
dren think  of  an  intemperate  husband  and  father? 
We  can  be  sober  in  language,  and  shun  cursing  and 
swearing — the  most  useless,  unmeaning,  and  brutal  of 
vulgarities.  Nothing  can  be  so  silly  and  unmeaning 
—  not  to  say  shocking,  repulsive,  and  sinful  —  as  the 
oaths  so  common  in  the  mouths  of  vulgar  swearers. 
They  are  profanation  without  purpose ;  impiety  with- 
out provocation ;  blasphemy  without  excuse. 

This  leads  us  to  remark,  in  passing,  that  in  this 
country  we  are  not  sufficiently  instructed  in  the  art  of 
good  manners.  We  are  rather  gruff,  and  sometimes 
unapproachable.  Manners  do  oiot  make  the  man,  as 
the  proverb  alleges ;  but  manners  make  the  man  much 


CHAP.  XVI.]  Good  Manners.  387 

more  agreeable.  A  man  may  be  noble  in  his  heart, 
true  in  his  dealings,  virtuous  in  his  conduct,  and  yet 
unmannerly.  Suavity  of  disposition  and  gentleness  of 
manners  give  the  finish  to  the  true  gentleman. 

By  good  manners  we  do  not  mean  etiquette.  This 
is  only  a  conventional  set  of  rules  adopted  by  what  is 
called  "  good  society ;"  and  many  of  the  rules  of  eti- 
quette are  of  the  essence  of  rudeness.  Etiquette  does 
not  permit  genteel  people  to  recognize  in  the  streets  a 
man  with  a  shabby  coat,  though  he  be  their  brother. 
Etiquette  is  a  liar  in  its  "not  at  home" — ordered  to  be 
told  by  servants  to  callers  at  inconvenient  seasons. 

Good  manners  include  many  requisites ;  but  they 
chiefly  consist  in  politeness,  courtesy,  and  kindness. 
They  can  not  be  taught  by  rule,  but  they  may  be 
taught  by  example.  It  has  been  said  that  politeness 
is  the  art  of  showing  men,  by  external  signs,  the  inter- 
nal regard  we  have  for  them.  But  a  man  may  be  per- 
fectly polite  to  another  without  necessarily  having  any 
reirard  for  him.  Good  manners  are  neither  more  nor 
less  than  beautiful  behavior.  It  has  been  well  said 
that  "a  beautiful  form  is  better  than  a  beautiful  face, 
and  a  beautiful  behavior  is  better  than  a  beautiful 
form ;  it  gives  a  higher  pleasure  than  statues  or  pict- 
ures ;  it  is  the  finest  of  the  fine  arts." 

Manner  is  the  ornament  of  action ;  indeed,  a  good 
action  without  a  good  manner  of  doing  it  is  stripped 
of  half  its  value.  A  poor  fellow  gets  into  difficulties, 
and  solicits  help  of  a  friend.  lie  obtains  it,  but  it  is 
with  a  "T/icre — take  that;  but  I  don't  like  lending." 
The  help  is  given  with  a  kind  of  kick,  and  is  scarcely 
accepted  as  a  favor.  The  manner  of  the  giving  long 
rankles  in  the  mind  of  the  acceptor.  Thus  good  man- 
ners mean  kind  manners,  benevolence  being  the  pre- 
ponderating element  in  all  kinds  of  pleasant  intercourse 
between  human  bein2:s. 


88S  Habitual  Politeness.  [chap.  xyi. 

A  story  is  told  of  a  poor  soldier  having  one  day- 
called  at  the  shop  of  a  hair-dresser,  who  was  busy  with 
his  customers,  and  asked  relief,  stating  that  he  had 
staid  beyond  his  leave  of  absence,  and  unless  he  could 
get  a  lift  on  the  coach,  fatigue  and  severe  punishment 
awaited  him.  The  hair -dresser  listened  to  his  story 
respectfully,  and  gave  him  a  guinea.  "  God  bless  you, 
sir !"  exclaimed  the  soldier,  astonished  at  the  amount, 
"  how  can  I  repay  you  ?  I  have  nothing  in  the  world 
but  this  " — pulling  out  a  dirt}'-  piece  of  paper  from  his 
pocket ;  "  it  is  a  receipt  for  making  blacking ;  it  is  the 
best  that  was  ever  seen.  Many  a  half-guinea  I  have 
had  for  it  from  the  officers,  and  many  bottles  I  have 
sold.  May  you  be  able  to  get  something  for  it  to  re- 
pay you  for  your  kindness  to  the  poor  soldier !"  Odd- 
ly enough,  that  dirty  piece  of  paper  j^roved  worth  half 
a  million  of  money  to  the  hair-dresser.  It  was  no  less 
than  the  receipt  for  the  famous  Day  &  Martin's  black- 
ing ;  the  hair-dresser  being  the  late  wealthy  Mr.  Day, 
whose  manufactory  is  one  of  the  notabilities  of  the 
metropolis. 

Good  manners  have  been  supposed  to  be  a  peculiar 
mark  of  gentility,  and  that  the  individual  exhibiting 
them  has  been  born  in  some  upper  class  of  society. 
But  the  poorest  classes  may  exhibit  good  maners  to- 
ward each  other,  as  well  as  the  richest.  One  may  be 
polite  and  kind  toward  others,  without  a  penny  in  the 
purse.  Politeness  goes  very  far,  yet  it  costs  nothing; 
it  is  the  cheapest  of  commodities.  But  we  want  to  be 
taught  good  manners  as  well  as  other  things.  Some 
liappy  natures  are  "to  the  manner  born."  But  the 
bulk  of  men  need  to  be  taught  manners,  and  this  can 
only  be  efficiently  done  in  youth. 

"VVe  have  said  that  working-men  might  study  good 
manners  wdth  advantage.  Why  should  they  not  re- 
spect themselves  and  each  other?    It  is  by  their  de- 


CHAP.  XVI.]  French  Maimers.  389 

meanor  toward  each  other — in  other  words,  by  their 
manners — that  self-respect  and  mutual  respect  are  in- 
dicated. We  have  been  struck  by  the  habitual  polite- 
ness of  even  the  poorest  classes  on  the  Continent.  The 
workman  lifts  his  cap  and  respectfully  salutes  his  fel- 
low-workman in  passing.  There  is  no  sacrifice  of  man- 
liness in  this,  but  rather  grace  and  dignity.  The  work- 
ing-man, in  respecting  his  fellow,  respects  himself  and 
liis  order.  There  is  kindness  in  the  act  of  recognition, 
as  well  as  in  the  manner  in  which  it  is  denoted. 

We  might  learn  much  from  the  French  people  in 
this  matter.  They  are  not  only  polite  to  each  other, 
but  they  have  a  great  respect  for  property.  Somo 
may  be  disposed  to  doubt  this,  after  the  recent  de- 
struction of  buildings  in  Paris.  But  the  Communists 
must  be  regarded  as  altogether  exceptional  people; 
and  to  understand  the  French  character,  we  must  look 
to  the  body  of  the  population  scattered  throughout 
France.  There  we  find  property  much  more  respected 
by  the  people  than  among  ourselves.  Even  the  beg- 
gar respects  the  fruit  by  the  roadside,  although  there 
is  nobody  to  protect  it.  The  reason  of  this  is,  that 
France  is  a  nation  of  small  proprietors;  that  property 
is  much  more  generally  difi*used  and  exposed  ;  and  par- 
ents of  even  the  lowest  class  educate  their  children  in 
carefulness  of  and  fidelity  to  the  property  of  others. 

This  respect  for  property  is  also  accompanied  with 
respect  for  the  feelings  of  others,  which  constitutes 
what  is  called  good  manners.  This  is  carefully  incul- 
cated in  the  children  of  all  ranks  in  France.  They  arc 
very  rarely  rude.  They  arc  civil  to  strangers.  They 
are  civil  to  each  other.  Mr.  Laing,  in  his  "  Notes  of 
a  Traveler,"  makes  these  remarks :  "  This  reference  to 
the  feelings  of  others  in  all  that  we  do  is  a  moral  habit 
of  great  value  when  it  is  generally  diffused,  and  enters 
into  the  home-training  of  every  family.     It  is  an  cdu- 


890  Hajpipiness  in  Good  Manners,  [chap.  XVI. 

cation  both  of  the  parent  and  child  in  morals,  carried 

on  through  the  medium  of  external  manners It 

is  a  fine  distinction  of  the  French  national  character, 
and  of  social  economy,  that  practical  morality  is  more 
generally  taught  through  manners,  among  and  by  the 
people  themselves,  than  in  any  country  in  Europe."* 

The  same  kindly  feeling  might  be  observed  through- 
out the  entire  social  intercourse  of  working-men  with 
each  other.  There  is  not  a  moment  in  their  lives  in 
which  the  opportunity  docs  not  occur  for  exhibiting 
good  manners — in  the  workshop,  in  the  street,  and  at 
home.  Provided  there  be  a  wish  to  please  others  by 
kind  looks  and  ways,  the  habit  of  combining  good 
manners  with  every  action  will  soon  be  formed.  It  is 
not  merely  the  pleasure  a  man  gives  to  others  by  be- 
ing kind  to  them:  he  receives  tenfold  more  pleasure 
liimself.  The  man  who  gets  up  and  offers  his  chair  to 
a  woman,  or  to  an  old  man — trivial  though  the  act 
may  seem — is  rewarded  by  his  own  heart,  and  a  thrill 
of  pleasure  runs  through  liim  the  moment  he  has  per- 
formed the  kindness. 

"Work-people  need  to  practice  good  manners  to- 
ward each  other  the  more,  because  they  are  under 
the  necessity  of  constantly  living  with  each  other  and 
among  each  other.  They  are  in  constant  contact  with 
their  fellow-workmen,  whereas  the  richer  classes  need 
not  mix  with  men  unless  they  choose,  and  then  they 
can  select  whom  they  like.  Tlie  working-man's  happi- 
ness depends  much  more  upon  the  kind  looks,  words, 
and  acts  of  those  immediately  about  him  than  the  rich 
man's  does.  It  is  so  in  the  workshop,  and  it  is  the 
same  at  home.  There  the  workman  can  not  retire  into 
his  study,  but  must  sit  among  his  family,  by  the  side 

*  Samuel  Laing,  "Notes  of  a  Traveler  on  the  Social  and  Political 
State  of  France,  Prussia,  Switzerland,  Italy,  and  otiier  Parts  of  Eu- 
rope," p,  55. 


CHAP.  XVI.]  Amusement.  891 

of  his  wife,  with  his  children  about  hira.  And  he  must 
either  live  kindly  with  them  —  performing  kind  and 
obliging  acts  toward  his  family,  or  he  must  see,  suf- 
fer, and  endure  the  intolerable  misery  of  reciprocal  un- 
kindness. 

Admitted  that  there  are  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
working-men  cultivating  the  art  of  good  manners; 
that  their  circumstances  are  often  very  limited,  and 
their  position  unfavorable — yet  no  man  is  so  poor  but 
that  he  can  be  civil  and  kind  if  he  choose ;  and  to  be 
civil  and  kind  is  the  very  essence  of  good  manners. 
Even  in  the  most  adverse  circumstances,  a  man  may 
try  to  do  his  best.  If  he  do — if  he  speak  and  act 
courteously  and  kindly  to  all — the  result  will  be  so 
*  satisfactory,  so  self-rewarding,  that  he  can  not  but  be 
stimulated  to  persevere  in  the  same  course.  He  will 
diffuse  pleasure  about  him  in  the  home,  make  friends 
of  his  work -fellows,  and  be  regarded  with  increased 
kindness  and  respect  by  every  right-minded  employer. 
The  civil  workman  will  exercise  increased  power  among 
his  class,  and  gradually  induce  them  to  imitate  him  by 
his  persistent  steadiness,  civility,  and  kindness.  Thus 
Benjamin  Franklin,  when  a  workman,  reformed  the 
habits  of  an  entire  workshop. 

Then,  besides  the  general  pleasure  arising  from  the 
exercise  of  good  manners,  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
healthfid  and  innocent  pleasure  to  be  derived  from 
amusements  of  various  kinds.  One  can  not  be  always 
w^orking,  eating,  and  sleeping.  There  must  be  time 
for  relaxation,  time  for  mental  pleasures,  time  for  bod- 
ily exercise. 

There  is  a  profound  meaning  in  the  word  "amuse- 
ment ;"  much  more  than  most  pco}>le  are  disposed  to 
admit.  In  fact,  amusement  is  an  important  part  of 
education.  It  is  a  mistake  to  supj^ose  that  the  boy  or 
the  man  who  plays  at  some  outdoor  game  is  wasting 


392  Recreation.  [CHAP.  xvi. 

his  time.  Amusement  of  any  kind  is  not  wasting  time, 
but  economizing  life. 

Relax  and  exercise  frequently,  if  yow  would  enjoy 
good  health.  If  you  do  not  relax,  and  take  no  exer- 
cise, the  results  will  soon  appear  in  bodily  ailments 
which  always  accompany  sedentary  occupations.  "  The 
students,"  says  Lord  Derby,  "  who  think  they  have 
not  time  for  bodily  exercise  will,  sooner  or  later,  find 
time  for  illness." 

There  are  people  in  the  world  who  would,  if  they 
had  the  power,  hang  the  heavens  about  with  crape ; 
throw  a  shroud  over  the  beautiful  and  life-giving 
bosom  of  the  planet ;  pick  the  bright  stars  from  the 
sky;  veil  the  sun  with  clouds;  pluck  the  silver  moon 
from  her  place  in  the  firmament ;  shut  up  our  gardens 
and  fields,  and  all  the  flowers  with  which  they  are 
bedecked ;  and  doom  the  world  to  an  atmosphere  of 
gloom  and  cheerlessness.  There  is  no  reason  or  mo- 
rality in  this,  and  there  is- still  less  religion. 

A  benevolent  Creator  has  endowed  man  with  an 
eminent  capacity  for  enjoyment — has  set  him  in  a  fair 
and  lovely  world,  surrounded  him  with  things  good 
and  beautiful,  and  given  him  the  disposition  to  love,  to 
sympathize,  to  help,  to  produce,  to  enjoy;  and  thus 
to  become  an  honorable  and  a  happy  being,  bringing 
God's  work  to  perfection,  and  enjoying  the  divine 
creation  in  the  midst  of  which  he  lives. 

Make  a  man  happy,  and  his  actions  will  be  happy 
too;  doom  him  to  dismal  thoughts  and  miserable  cir- 
cumstances, and  you  w^ill  make  him  gloomy,  discon- 
tented, morose,  and  probably  vicious.  Hence  coarse- 
ness and  crime  are  almost  invariably  found  among 
those  who  have  never  been  accustomed  to  be  cheerful ; 
whose  hearts  have  been  shut  against  the  purifying  in- 
fluences of  a  happy  communion  with  nature,  or  an  en- 
lisrhtened  and  cheerful  intercourse  with  man. 


CHAP.  XVI.]  Influence  of  Music.  393 

Man  has  a  strong  natural  appetite  for  relaxation  and 
amusement,  and,  like  all  other  natural  appetites,  it  has 
been  implanted  for  a  wise  purpose.  It  can  not  be  re- 
pressed, but  will  break  out  in  one  form  or  another. 
Any  well-directed  attempt  to  promote  an  innocent 
amusement  is  worth  a  dozen  sermons  against  pernicious 
ones.  If  we  do  not  provide  the  opportunity  for  enjoy- 
ing wholesome  pleasures,  men  will  certainly  find  out 
vicious  ones  for  themselves.  Sydney  Smith  truly  said, 
"In  order  to  attack  vice  with  eflect,  we  must  set  w^ 
something  better  in  its  place." 

Temperance  reformers  have  not  sufficiently  consid- 
ered how  much  the  drinking  habits  of  the  country  are 
the  consequences  of  gross  tastes,  and  of  the  too  limited 
opportunities  which  exist  in  this  country  for  obtaining 
access  to  amusements  of  an  innocent  and  improving 
tendency.  The  workman's  tastes  have  been  allowed 
to  remain  uncultivated ;  present  wants  engross  his 
thoughts ;  the  gratification  of  his  appetites  is  his  high- 
est pleasure ;  and  when  he  relaxes,  it  is  to  indulge  im- 
moderately in  beer  or  whisky.  The  Germans  were 
at  one  time  the  drunkenest  of  nations ;  they  are  now 
among  the  soberest.  "As  drunken  as  a  German  boor  " 
was  a  common  proverb.  How  have  they  been  weaned 
from  drink  ?    Principally  by  education  and  music. 

Music  has  a  most  humanizing  eftect.  The  cultiva- 
tion of  the  art  lias  a  most  favorable  influence  upon 
public  morals.  It  furnishes  a  source  of  pleasure  in 
every  family.  It  gives  home  a  new  attraction.  It 
makes  social  intercourse  more  cheerful.  Father  Math- 
ew  followed  up  his  temperance  movement  by  a  sing- 
ing movement.  He  pi«omoted  the  establishment  of 
musical  clubs  all  over  Ireland ;  for  he  felt  that,  as  lie 
had  taken  the  people's  whisky  from  them,  he  must  give 
them  some  wholesome  stimulus  in  its  stead.  He  gave 
them  music.     Singing-classes  were  established,  to  refine 


394  Household  Elegance.  [CHAP.  xvi. 

the  taste,  soften  the  manners,  and  humanize  the  mass 
of  the  Irish  people.  But  we  fear  that  the  example  set 
by  Father  Mathew  has  already  been  forgotten. 

"What  a  fullness  of  enjoyment,"  says  Channing, 
"has  our  Creator  placed  within  our  reach,  by  sur- 
rounding us  with  an  atmosjihere  which  may  be  shaped 
into  sweet  sounds !  And  yet  this  goodness  is  almost 
lost  upon  us,  through  want  of  culture  of  the  organ  by 
which  this  j^rovision  is  to  be  enjoyed." 

How  much  would  the  general  cultivation  of  the  gift 
of  music  improve  us  as  a  people  !  Children  ought  to 
learn  it  in  schools,  as  they  do  in  Germany.  The  voice 
of  music  would  then  be  heard  in  every  household. 
Our  old  English  glees  would  no  longer  be  forgotten. 
Men  and  women  mijjht  sine:  in  the  intervals  of  their 
work,  as  the  Germans  do  in  going  to  and  coming  from 
their  wars.  The  work  would  not  be  worse  done,  be- 
cause it  Avas  done  amidst  music  and  cheerfulness.  The 
breath  of  society  would  be  sweetened,  and  pleasure 
would  be  linked  with  labor. 

Why  not  liave  some  elegance  in  even  the  humblest 
home  ?  We  must  of  course  have  cleanliness,  which  is 
the  special  elegance  of  the  poor.  But  why  not  have 
pleasant  and  delightful  things  to  look  upon  ?  There  is 
no  reason  why  the  humbler  classes  should  not  surround 
themselves  with  the  evidences  of  beauty  and  comfort 
in  all  their  shapes,  and  thus  do  homage  alike  to  the 
gifts  of  God  and  the  labors  of  man.  The  taste  for  the 
beautiful  is  one  of  the  best  and  most  useful  endow- 
ments. It  is  one  of  the  handmaids  of  civilization. 
Beauty  and  elegance  do  not  necessarily  belong  to  the 
homes  of  the  rich.  They  are,  or  ought  to  be,  all-per^ 
vading.  Beauty  in  all  things — in  nature,  in  art,  in  sci- 
ence, in  literature,  in  social  and  domestic  life. 

How  beautiful  and  yet  how  cheap  are  flowers !  Not 
exotics,  but  what  are  called  common  flowers.     A  rose, 


CHAP.  XVI.]  Elegance  of  Flowers.  895 

for  instance,  is  among  the  most  beautiful  of  the  smiles 
of  nature.  The  "  laughing  flowers,"  exclaims  the  poet. 
But  there  is  more  than  gayety  iu  blooming  flowers, 
though  it  takes  a  wise  man  to  see  the  beauty,  the  love, 
and  the  adaptation  of  which  they  are  full. 

What  should  we  think  of  one  who  had  invented  flow- 
ers, supposing  that,  before  him,  flowers  were  unknown  ? 
Would  he  not  be  regarded  as  the  opener-up  of  a  para- 
dise of  new  delight?  Should  we  not  hail  the  inventor 
as  a  genius,  as  a  god  ?  And  yet  these  lovely  ofisprings 
of  the  earth  have  been  speaking  to  man  from  the  first 
dawn  of  his  existence  until  now,  telling  him  of  the 
goodness  and  wisdom  of  the  Creative  Power,  which 
bid  the  earth  bring  forth,  not  only  that  which  was 
useful  as  food,  but  also  flowers,  the  bright  consummate 
flowers,  to  clotlie  it  in  beauty  and  joy  ! 

Bring  one  of  the  commonest  field -flowers  into  a 
room,  place  it  on  a  table  or  chimney-piece,  and  you 
seem  to  have  brought  a  ray  of  sunshine  into  the  place. 
There  is  a  cheerfulness  about  flowers.  What  a  delight 
are  they  to  the  drooping  invalid !  They  are  a  sweet 
enjoyment,  coming  as  messengers  from  the  country, 
and  seeming  to  say,  "  Come  and  see  the  place  where 
we  grow,  and  let  your  heart  be  glad  in  our  presence." 

What  can  be  more  innocent  than  flow^ers  ?  They  are 
like  children  undimmed  by  sin.  They  are  emblems  of 
purity  and  truth,  a  source  of  fresh  delight  to  the  pure 
and  innocent.  The  heart  that  does  not  love  flowers,  or 
the  voice  of  a  playful  child,  can  not  be  genial.  It  was 
a  beautiful  conceit  that  invented  a  language  of  flowers, 
by  which  lovers  were  enabled  to  express  the  feelings 
that  they  dared  not  openly  speak.  But  flowers  have  a 
voice  for  all — old  and  young,  ricli  and  poor.  "  To  me," 
says  Wordsworth, 

"The  meanest  flower  that  blows,  can  give 
Thoughts  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears." 


396  Common  Enjoyments.  [chap.  xvi. 

Have  a  flower  in  tlie  room,  by  all  means  !  It  will 
cost  only  a  penny  if  your  ambition  is  moderate ;  and 
the  gratification  it  gives  will  be  beyond  price.  If  you 
can  have  a  flower  for  your  window,  so  much  the  better. 
What  can  be  more  delicious  than  the  sun's  light  stream- 
ing through  flowers — through  the  midst  of  crimson 
fuchsias  or  scarlet  geraniums?  To  look  out  into  the 
light  through  flowers — is  not  that  poetry  ?  and  to  break 
the  force  of  the  sunbeams  by  the  tender  resistance  of 
green  leaves?  If  you  can  train  a  nasturtium  round 
the  window,  or  some  sweet-pease,  then  you  w^ill  have 
the  most  beautiful  frame  you  can  invent  for  the  picture 
without,  whether  it  be  the  busy  crowd,  or  a  distant 
landscape,  or  trees  with  their  lights  and  shades,  or  the 
changes  of  the  passing  clouds.  Any  one  may  thus  look 
through  flowers  for  the  price  of  an  old  song.  And 
what  pure  taste  and  refinement  does  it  not  indicate  on 
the  part  of  the  cultivator ! 

A  flower  in  the  window  sweetens  the  air,  makes  the 
room  look  graceful,  gives  the  sun's  light  a  new  charm, 
rejoices  the  eye,  and  links  nature  with  beauty.  The 
flower  is  a  companion  that  will  never  say  a  cross  thing 
to  any  one,  but  will  always  look  beautiful  and  smiling. 
Do  not  despise  it  because  it  is  cheap,  and  because  ev- 
ery body  may  have  the  luxury  as  well  as  yourself. 
Common  things  are  cheap,  but  common  things  are  in- 
variably the  most  valuable.  Could  w^e  only  have  fresh 
air  or  sunshine  by  purchase,  what  luxuries  they  would 
be  considered  !  But  they  are  free  to  all,  and  w^e  think 
little  of  their  blessings. 

There  is,  indeed,  much  in  nature  that  we  do  not  yet 
half  enjoy,  because  we  shut  our  avenues  of  sensation 
and  feeling.  We  are  satisfied  with  the  matter  of  fact, 
and  look  not  for  the  spirit  of  fact  which  is  above  it. 
If  we  opened  our  minds  to  enjoyment,  we  might  find 
tranquil  pleasures  spread  about  us  on  every  side.     We 


CHAP.  XVI.]  The  Beauty  of  Art.  397 

might  live  with  the  angels  that  visit  us  on  every  sun- 
beam, and  sit  with  the  fairies  who  wait  on  every 
flower.  We  want  more  loving  knowledge  to  enable 
us  to  enjoy  life,  and  we  require  to  cultivate  the  art  of 
making  the  most  of  the  common  means  and  appliances 
for  enjoyment  which  lie  about  us  on  every  side. 

A  snug  and  a  clean  home,  no  matter  how  tiny  it  be, 
so  that  it  be  wholesome;  windows  into  which  the  sun 
can  shine  cheerily  ;  a  few  good  books  (and  who  need 
be  without  a  few  good  books  in  these  days  of  universal 
cheapness?) — no  duns  at  the  door,  and  the  cupboard 
well  supplied,  and  with  a  flower  in  your  room  !  There 
is  none  so  poor  as  not  to  have  about  him  these  elements 
of  pleasure. 

But  why  not,  besides  the  beauty  of  nature,  have  a 
taste  for  the  beauty  of  art  ?  Why  not  hang  up  a  pict- 
ure in  the  room  ?  Ingenious  methods  have  been  dis- 
covered— some  of  them  quite  recently — for  almost  in- 
finitely multiplying  works  of  art,  by  means  of  wood- 
engravings,  lithographs,  photographs,  and  autotypes, 
whicli  render  it  possible  for  every  person  to  furnish  his 
rooms  with  beautiful  pictures.  Skill  and  science  have 
thus  brought  art  within  reach  of  the  poorest. 

Any  picture,  print,  or  engraving  that  represents  a 
noble  thought,  that  depicts  a  heroic  act,  or  that  brings 
u  bit  of  nature  from  the  fields  or  the  streets  into  our 
room,  is  a  teacher,  a  means  of  education,  and  a  help  to 
self-culture.  It  serves  to  make  the  home  more  pleasant 
and  attractive.  It  sweetens  domestic  life,  and  sheds  a 
grace  and  beauty  about  it.  It  draws  the  gazer  away 
from  mere  considerations  of  self,  and  increases  his  store 
of  delightful  associations  with  the  world  without  as 
well  as  with  the  world  within. 

The  portrait  of  a  great  man,  for  instance,  helps  us  to 
read  his  life.  It  invests  him  with  a  personal  interest. 
Looking  at  his  features,  we  feel  as  if  we  knew  him  bet- 


898  Portraits  of  Great  Men.       [CHAP.  xvi. 

ter,  and  were  more  closely  related  to  him.  Such  a  por- 
trait, hung  up  before  us  daily,  at  our  meals  and  during 
our  leisure  hours,  unconsciously  serves  to  lift  us  up  and 
sustain  iis.  It  is  a  link  that  in  some  way  binds  us  to  a 
higher  and  nobler  nature. 

It  is  said  of  a  Catholic  money-lender  that  when  about 
to  cheat,  he  was  wont  to  draw  a  veil  over  the  face  of 
his  favorite  saint.  Thus  the  portraiture  of  a  great  and 
virtuous  man  is  in  some  measure  a  companionship  of 
something  better  than  ourselves ;  and  though  we  may 
not  reach  the  standard  of  the  hero,  we  may  to  a  certain 
extent  be  influenced  by  his  likeness  on  our  walls. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  a  picture  should  be  high- 
priced  in  order  to  be  beautiful  and  good.  We  have 
seen  things  for  which  hundreds  of  guineas  have  been 
paid  that  have  not  one-hundredth  part  of  the  meaning 
or  beauty  that  is  to  be  found  in  Linton's  wood-cut  of 
Rafiaelle's  "  Madonna,"  which  may  be  had  for  twopence. 
The  head  reminds  one  of  the  observation  made  by  Haz- 
litt  upon  a  picture,  that  it  seems  as  if  an  unhandsome 
act  would  be  impossible  in  its  presence.  It  embodies 
the  ideas  of  mother's  love,  womanly  beauty,  and  ear- 
nest piety.  As  some  one  said  of  the  picture,  "  It  looks 
as  if  a  bit  of  heaven  were  in  the  room." 

Picture-fanciers  pay  not  so  much  for  the  merit  as  for 
the  age  and  the  rarity  of  their  works.  The  poorest 
may  have  the  seeiiig  eye  for  beauty,  while  the  rich  man 
may  be  blind  to  it.  The  cheapest  engraving  may  com- 
municate the  sense  of  beauty  to  the  artisan,  while  the 
thousand- guinea  picture  may  fail  to  communicate  to 
the  millionaire  any  thing — excepting,  perhaps,  the  no- 
tion that  he  has  got  possession  of  a  work  which  the 
means  of  other  people  can  not  compass. 

Does  the  picture  give  you  pleasure  on  looking  at  it? 
That  is  one  good  test  of  its  worth.  You  may  grow 
tired  of  it ;  your  taste  may  outgrow  it,  and  demand 


CHAP.  XVI.]  Art  at  Home.  399 

something  better,  just  as  tlie  reader  may  grow  out  of 
Montgomery's  poetry  into  Milton's.  Then  you  will 
take  down  the  daub,  and  put  up  a  picture  with  a  high- 
er idea  in  its  place.  There  may  thus  be  a  steady  prog- 
ress of  art  made  upon  the  room  walls.  If  the  pictures 
can  be  put  in  frames,  so  much  the  better ;  but  if  they 
can  not,  no  matter ;  up  with  them !  We  know  that 
Owen  Jones  says  it  is  not  good  taste  to  hang  prints 
upon  walls ;  he  would  merely  hang  room-papers  there. 
But  Owen  'Jones  may  not  be  infallible;  and  here  we 
think  he  is  wrong.  To  our  eyes,  a  room  always  looks 
unfurnished,  no  matter  how  costly  and  numerous  the 
tables,  chairs,  and  ottomans,  unless  there  be  pictures 
upon  the  walls. 

It  ought  to  be,  and  no  doubt  it  is,  a  great  stimulus 
to  artists  to  know  that  their  works  are  now  distributed 
in  prints  and  engravings,  to  decorate  and  beautify  the 
homes  of  the  people.  The  wood-cutter,  the  lithogra- 
pher, and  the  engraver  are  the  popular  interpreters  of 
the  great  artist.  Thus  Turner's  pictures  are  not  con- 
fined to  the  wealthy  possessors  of  the  original  works, 
but  may  be  diftused  through  all  homes  by  the  Millars, 
and  Brandards,  and  Wilmotts,  who  have  engraved 
tliem.  Thus  Landseer  finds  entrance,  through  wood- 
cuts and  mezzotints,  into  every  dwelling.  Thus  Cruik- 
shauk  preaches  temperance,  and  Ary  Scheifer  purity 
and  piety.  The  engraver  is  the  medium  by  which  art 
in  the  palace  is  conveyed  into  the  humblest  homes  in 
the  kingdom. 

The  art  of  living  may  be  displayed  in  many  ways. 
It  may  be  summed  up  in  the  Avords,  "  jVIake  the  best  of 
every  thing."  Nothing  is  beneath  its  care:  even  com- 
mon and  little  things  it  turns  to  account.  It  gives  a 
brightness  and  grace  to  the  home,  and  invests  nature 
with  new  charms.  Through  it  we  enjoy  the  rich  man's 
parks  and  woods,  as  if  they  were  our  own.     We  inhale 


400  Final  Art  of  Living.  [chap.  xvi. 

the  common  air,  and  bask  under  the  universal  sunshine. 
We  glory  in  the  grass,  the  passing  clouds,  and  the 
flowers.  We  love  the  common  earth,  and  hear  joyful 
voices  through  all  nature.  It  extends  to  every  kind 
of  social  intercourse.  It  engenders  cheerful  good-will 
and  loving  sincerity.  By  its  help  we  make  others  hap- 
py, and  ourselves  blessed.  We  elevate  our  being  and 
ennoble  our  lot.  We  rise  above  the  groveling  creat- 
ures of  earth,  and  aspire  to  the  Infinite.  And  thus 
we  link  time  to  eternitj^,  where  the  true  a*rt  of  living 
has  its  final  consummation. 


INDEX. 


Abe-rdaee,  Lord,  cu  loss  by  strikes, 
117. 

Advancement  of  self  is  advancement 
of  society,  110. 

Aitou,  Dr.,  an  example  of  thrift,  82. 

Akroyd,  Edward,  founds  Provident 
Society  and  Penny  Savings-bank, 
135,  136 ;  and  his  work-people,  216, 
217 ;  and  penny  banks,  211-222. 

Ambition,  use  of,  112. 

Amusement,  meaning  and  use  of,  391- 
393. 

Arithmetic  necessary  for  domestic 
economy,  267. 

Ashburton,  Lord,  on  home  economy, 
365. 

Ash  worth,  Messrs.,  and  their  work- 
people, 204-207. 

Author's  mother,  an  example  of  thrift, 
83. 

Avarice  differs  from  economy,  108. 

Baook  on  limits  of  economy,  106 ;  his 
improvidence,  283. 

Bargain-buying,  bad  economy  of,  30. 

Baxendale,  Joseph,  190, 191 ;  on  punct- 
uality, 190;  and  Pickford  &  Co., 
191 ;  and  railways,  194 ;  his  maxims, 
195, 196. 

Bewick,  the  engraver,  S3. 

Bilston  Savings-bank,  153. 

Brassey,  T.,  on  English  workmen, 
248. 

Brewster,  D.,  on  education,  76,  77. 

Briggs  &  Son,  and  co-operation,  235. 

Bright,  John,  on  the  wages  of  the 
working-classes,  141. 

Brutus,  and  usury,  315. 

Buchau,  Earl  of,  an  example  of  thrift, 
82. 

Building  Societies,  123;  at  Birming- 
ham, 124;  at  Leeds,  125;  at  Padi- 
ham,  120 ;  at  Burnley,  ibid. 

Burnley,  Building  Society  at,  126. 

Burns  and  debt,  298. 

Byron  and  debt,  295. 

Campbell,  Dr.,  the  missionary,  SS. 

Canova,  humble  origin  of,  06. 

Cauital,  the  result  of  industry  and 
thrift,  202;  advantage  of,  to  work- 
men employed,  202,  203. 

Carlyle,  T.,  on  manufactures,  203;  his 


letter  to  Whitwoith,  241 ;  on  public 
charities,  324. 

Carrington,  Lord,  and  Pitt,  2S3. 

Cato,  the  elder,  and  usury,  315. 

Chadwick,  Edwin,  sketch  of  his  life, 
347;  his  sanitary  idea,  .S4S,  349 ;  and 
Poor-law  inquiry,  349,  350 ;  and  the 
sanitary  movement,  351-353 ;  and 
General  Board  of  Health,  353;  ou 
thrifilessness,  50. 

Chantrey,  F.,  96. 

Charities,  public,  322,  323. 

Christianity,  its  establishment,  53,  54. 

Civilization,  and  thrift,  13 ;  slow  prog- 
ress of,  53;  and  healthy  homes, 
341. 

Class,  exclusiveness  of,  256-259. 

Cleanliness  must  be  taught,  362. 

Cobbett,  W.,  ou  savings-banks,  143, 
144. 

Cobden,  R.,  on  self-help,  24. 

Cold,  the  parent  of  frugality,  46. 

Comfort,  and  the  art  ofliving,  380-383. 

Competition,  use  of,  200, 201. 

Cooking,  good  and  bad,  368-370. 

Co-operation,  the  secret  of  social  de- 
velopment, 114;  and  the  middle 
classes,  ibid. ;  and  working-classes, 
114,  115;  Fishery,  118;  tin-mining, 
ibid.;  at  Hull,  ibid.;  at  Leeds,  119; 
at  Rochdale,  119-121 ;  at  Over  Dar- 
wen,  122 ;  at  Northampton,  ibid. ;  at 
Padiham,  Manchester,  Birmingham, 
Leeds,  123-125;  and  life-assurance, 
127-131 ;  and  friendly  societies,  131 ; 
and  factories,  234-241. 

Corbett,  J.,  on  ignorance  of  domestic 
economy,  372,  373. 

Crallan,  and  lessons  on  thrift,  163. 

Crossley,  Francis,  and  Halifax  Park, 
230-235. 

Crossley,  John,  sketch  of  his  life,  224 ; 
his  wife,  225-229 ;  his  work,  22S-230. 

Dantzio,  Duke  of,  319. 

Davis,  John,  on  debt,  263-265. 

Debt,  evils  of,  261-267,  280 ;  sjTnpathy 
with,  280 ;  and  great  men,  ibid. 

Debtors,  celebrated.  Bacon,  Pitt,  283 ; 
Melville,  Fox,  284;  Sheridan,  284- 
286,  297 ;  De  Retz,  Mirabeau,  La- 
martine,  Webster,  286,  287 ;  Hunter, 
Vandyck,  238,   2S9;   Uaydon,   290; 


402 


Index. 


Cowper,  Marlowe,  Greene,  Peele, 
290,  291 ;  Lovelace,  Butler,  Wycher- 
ley.  Fielding,  Savage,  291 ;  Chatter- 
ton,  292;  Steele,  292,  297 ;  Goldsmith, 
2S0,  293-295;  Byron,  295,  296 ;  Foote, 
297 ;  De  Foe,  298, 299 ;  Scott,  300-302, 

Deeds,  not  words,  112. 

Denison,  Edward,  on  providence,  20; 
on  London  poor,  46 ;  on  thrift,  47 ; 
on  thrift  in  Guernsey,  4S. 

Derby,  Lord,  on  progress,  99, 100. 

Derby  Penny  Bank,  159. 

De  Retz,  Cardinal,  286. 

Dirt  a  degradation,  3G2-CC4. 

DoUond,  industry  of,  93. 

Donne,  Dr.,  his  charity  and  thrift,  307, 
308. 

Donough,  J.,  tombstone  of,  113. 

Dress,  extravagance  in,  259,  260. 

Drill,  the  magic  of,  148, 149. 

Drink,  money  spent  on,  65, 117,  note  ; 
the  great  sin,  74;  and  unhealthy 
homes,  344, 345. 

Dnnoitn,  H.,  and  savings-banks,  144, 
145. 

Economy,  see  Thrift. 

Education,  power  of,  72,  73  ;  is  capital, 
76 ;  advantage  of,  ibid. ;  in  Ger- 
many, 77. 

Elcho,  Lord,  on  miners'  wages,  60. 

Elegance  at  home,  394. 

Elliot,  Sir  G.,  and  miners,  88. 

England  one  hundred  years  ago,  242- 
245. 

English  charities,  331. 

English  workmanship,  246-248. 

Englishmen,  industry  and  improvi- 
dence of,  107. 

Extravagance,  prevalence  of,  252. 

Failure,  self-sought.  111. 

Faruhara  Penny  Bank,  158. 

Fast  living,  tendency  to,  29. 

Felkin  on  workmen's  savings,  78. 

Ferguson  Charity,  the,  326. 

Ferguson,  the  astronomer,  93. 

Flaxman,  the  sculptor,  95. 

Flowers,  use  of,  394,  395. 

Foote  and  debt,  297. 

Forster,  W.  E.,  on  Lister,  209,  210. 

Fox,  Head,  &  Co.,  and  co-operation, 
237-240. 

Fox,  C.  J.,  and  debt,  284. 

Franklin,  B.,  on  thrift  of  time,  25 ;  on 
self-imposed  taxes,  52;  his  industry, 
92. 

Friendly  societies,  131 ;  defects  of,  132, 
133,  136,  137 ;  working  of,  134 ;  ob- 
jections to,  134, 135 ;  improvement 
of,  138. 

Funerals,  extravagance  of,  274-277. 

GENERosiTt  and  economy,  107. 
Girard  Chanty,  the,  327,  328. 


Ghent,  School  Bank  at,  163, 164. 

Gibbon,  on  Fox,  284. 

Goethe,  on  individualism,  86,  87. 

Goldsmith,  O.,  and  debt,  280,  293-295. 

Good  manners,  art  of,  3S6-3S9  ;  among 
workirfg-classes,  390,  391. 

Good  taste,  economy  of,  877,  378;  and 
comfort,  380-382. 

Grey,  Margaretta,  on  occupation  of 
ladies,  371. 

Greenock  Penny  Bank,  155. 

Greg,  W.  R.,  on  savings  of  working- 

■    classes,  117. 

Gregory,  O.,  on  self-taught  working- 
men,  94. 

Griffiths  on  pursuit  of  money,  310, 
311. 

Grundy,  Mrs.,  fear  of,  254-257. 

Guizot  on  English  charities,  322. 

Guy's  Hospital,  329. 

Haltfax  Penny  Bank,  153. 

Happiness  in  old  age,  313. 

Health,  pleasures  of,  335 ;  injuries  to, 
336-338. 

Heriot's  Hospital,  330. 

Herschel,  his  industry,  92. 

Hill,  Rowland,  and  savings-banks, 
166, 167. 

Hogarth,  96. 

Home  and  civilization,  342  ;  and  chil- 
dren, ibid.;  ignorance  concerning, 
343,344;  reform,  360,  361. 

Huddersfleld  Savings-bank,  172. 

Hull  Anti-Mill  Industrial  Society,  118. 

Hume,  H.,  and  thrift,  83,  84. 

Hume,  J.,  on  tone  of  living,  29. 

Hunter,  J.,  and  debt,  288. 

Hutton,  Dr.,  88. 

Idleness,  wretchedness  of,  IS. 
Ignorance  is  power,  72,  73. 
Improvidence,  see  Thriftlessness. 
Inchbald,  Mrs.,  on  thrift,  80,  81. 
Incomes  of  the  working-classes,  55-63. 
Independence  of  a  good  mechanic,  64. 
Individualism,  87,  88. 
Industry,  see  Labor. 

Johnson,  S.,  on  economy.  31,  32;  on 
poverty,  32;  on  Savage,  291,  292; 
his  poverty,  302, 303  ;  on  debt,  303. 

Jonson,  Ben,  and  poverty,  290. 

Kepler,  and  poverty,  287. 
Knowledge  acquired  by  labor,  IS. 

Labor,  leads  to  wealth,  14 ;  is  never 
lost,  15 ;  a  necessity  and  pleasure, 
16;  St.  Paul  on,  17;  gives  knowl- 
edge, 18 ;  and  progress,  19 ;  of  En- 
glish workmen,  49  ;  and  thrift,  112, 
202;  makes  the  man,  178. 

Laing,  S.,  on  good  manners  in  France, 
3S9. 


Index. 


403 


Lamartiue  and  debt,  286. 

Lancaster,  J.,   and  Sunday-schools, 

307. 
Land  and  bnilding  societies,  123. 
Leeds   Industrial   Society,  119;   Per- 
manent Building  Society,  125. 
Life -assurance,  advantages   of,  12T; 

working  of,  12S ;  at  a  penny  a  day, 

ISS,  189. 
Life,  uncertainty  of,  35,  36. 
Lister,  of  Bradford,  20S-210. 
Little  things,  importance  of,  17T-1S1. 
Living,  art  of,  37G-400. 
Loan  societies,  282. 
Lough,  the  sculptor,  sketch  of  his  life, 

96-98. 
Luck,  means  good  management,  111 ; 

does  not  make  men,  178. 
Lytton,  Lord,  on  money,  23 ;  on  pub- 

"lic  charities,  324. 

Macatjlat  on  Pitt,  284. 

Macdonald,  A.,  87. 

Manchester,  Bishop  of,  on  agricultur- 
al laborers,  41. 

Manchester  Co-operative  Bank,  123; 
unity  of  Odd  Fellows,  134, 138. 

Marlborough,  Duke  of,  his  penurious- 
ness,  320. 

Marriage,  responsibility  of,  28 ;  makes 
economy  a  duty,  109 ;  imprudent, 
268-272. 

Masters,  influence  of,  197 ;  want  of 
sympathy  between  men  and,  108- 
204. 

Means,  living  beyond,  253. 

Mechanics'  institutes,  91,  92. 

Melville,  Lord,  and  debt,  2S4. 

Method,  a  masculine  quality,  334; 
value  of,  384,  3S5. 

Middle  class,  co-operation  among, 
114. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  on  combination,  113;  on 
dollar-hunters,  316. 

Miller,  Hugh,  on  thrift,  65;  his  indus- 
try, 90. 

Milton,  J.,  and  poverty,  291. 

Mirabeau  and  debt,  286. 

Misery,  caused  by  greed  and  improvi- 
dence, 44;  of  the  man  of  nothing 
but  money,  313. 

Money,  represents  independence,  27, 
28;  mistake  as  to  power  of.  309; 
worship  of,  309-311  ;  accumulation 
of,  311,  312;  dissipated  by  the  third 
generation,  312. 

Montaigne  on  debt,  266. 

Mortality,  laws  of,  37. 

Moses  a  sanitary  reformer,  364. 

Napikr,  C,  on  debt,  265. 

Nasmyth,  J.,  sketch  of  his  life,  100- 
104;  his  active  leisure,  103, 104. 

National  prosperity  is  not  real  pros- 
perity, 40,  41. 


Navvy's  Home  a  failure,  333,  334. 

Newman,  on  debt,  261. 

Nightingale,  F.,  and  soldiers'  savings, 

151. 
No,  ability  to  say,  272-274. 
Nobody  to  blame,  357,  358. 
Norris  on  miners,  51. 
Northampton  Co-operative  Society, 

122, 123. 

Order,  81. 

Overcrowding,  336-333. 
Over  Darweu  Co-operative  Society, 
122. 

Padiuam,  Co-operative  Cotton -mill, 
123 ;  Building  Societv,  126. 

Pastoral  life  a  myth,  338,  339. 

Peabody  benefaction,  the,  331. 

Penny  a  dav,  power  of  a,  188, 189. 

Penny  Bank,  Akroyd's,  217-222;  at 
Greenock,  155 ;  at  Halifax,  158 ;  at 
Glasgow,  158;  at  Farnham,  ibid. 

Pennies,  taking  care  of  the,  181-189. 

Physiology  should  be  taught,  366. 

Pickford  &  Co.;  sceBaxeudale. 

Pictures,  use  of,  397. 

Pitt  and  debt,  283. 

Post-office  savings-banks,  166-169, 
174, 175. 

Pounds,  John,  and  ragged  schools, 
307. 

Poverty,  not  a  disgrace,  320 ;  sharpens 
wits,  320,  321 ;  the  skeleton  in  the 
closet,  140. 

Preston  Savings-bank,  175, 176. 

Primogeniture,  riirht  of,  causes  strug- 
gle for  wealth,  315. 

Prodigality;  see  Thriftlessness. 

Progress  and  labor,  19 ;  of  individu- 
als and  nations,  34. 

Prosperity  leads  to  greater  expendi- 
ture, 38-40. 

Punctuality,  Baxendale  on,  190,  191 ; 
a  household  quality,  385. 

QuroKETT  on  penny  banks,  155, 156. 
(^uentiu  Matsys,  industry  of,  95. 

Raooed  SonooLS  and  penny  banks, 
160 :  foundation  of,  307. 

Ramsay,  Allan,  88. 

Keady-money  transactions,  12.'}. 

Reform  of  Number  One,  52  ;  of  home, 
360,  361. 

Republican  millionaires,  31.5. 

Respectability,  abuse  of,  25,'). 

Rich  man,  the  troubles  of  the,  318, 
319. 

Richardson, 93. 

Rochdale,  Co-operative  Corn-mill,  119 ; 
Equitable  Pioneers'  Society,  119-121. 

Roebuck,  J.  A.,  on  the  working-class- 
es, 66. 

Rural  districts,  unwholesome  condi- 


40-i 


Index. 


tion  of,  339,  340 ;  ignorance  in,  340, 

341, 
Russell,  Lord,  on  self-imposed  taxes, 

52, 
Ruthwell  Savings-bank,  144, 145. 

Salat>in  on  wealth,  316. 

Salamanca,  Joso  de,  on  love  of  gold, 
317, 

Salt,  T.,  sketch  of  his  life,  211 ;  founds 
Saltaire,  212 ;  and  his  work-people, 
212-215, 

Saltaire,  212-215. 

Sanitary  science,  347-300, 

Savings-banks,  144;  the  first,  ibid. ;  at 
Ruthwell,  144,  145;  used  by  domes- 
tic servants,  147  ;  used  most  where 
wages  are  lowest,  ibid. ;  used  by  sol- 
diers, ibid.;  military,  149,  150;  at 
Bilston,  153;  penny,  155-1G2;  school, 
163;  increase  of,  164;  post-office, 
166-1C9,  174,  175 ;  statistics  of,  175, 
176. 

Savings ;  see  Thrift. 

Scholarship  in  the  School  of  Mines, 
122. 

Scotch  charities,  330. 

Scott,  W.,  and  debt,  300-302. 

Self-help  means  eelf-respect,  33-34. 

Sharp,  W„  96, 

Sheridan  and  debt,  284,  285,  297. 

Sikes,  C.  W.,  on  thriftlessness,  15G, 
157;  on  savings-banks,  157;  and 
post  -  office  savings-banks,  166-169 ; 
sketch  of  his  life,  169, 170. 

Slavery,  in  Britain,  54;  in  England, 
67, 68,  243 ;  in  Scotland,  68, 

Smith,  Joseph,  starts  a  savings-bank, 
144. 

Smith,  Sydney,  and  poverty,  298. 

Society,  living  up  to  higher,  107, 108, 

Socrates  on  thriit.  111. 

Southey,  his  industry,  299. 

Spinoza  and  poverty,  288. 

Steele,  R,,  and  debt,  292-297. 

Steen,  Jan,  and  debt,  289. 

Stephenson,  George,  88,  89, 

Sterne  and  poverty,  292. 

Stone,  on  public  charities,  324. 

Strikes,  losses  by,  61, 115-117. 

Sully,  Duke  of,  on  economy,  109. 

Sympathy  between  masters  and  men, 
want  of,  198-200. 

Tact,  want  of.  111. 

Tassie,  sculptor,  96. 

Taxes,  self-imposed,  52. 

Taylor,  J.,  on  reputation  of  man  of 

money,  314. 
Thrift,  origin  and  definition  of,  13  ;  an 

acquired  principle,  20 ;  gives  capi- 


tal, 22 ;  is  within  reach  of  all,  23-25; 
of  time,  25;  needs  common  sense, 
26 ;  needs  a  beginning,  ibid. ;  is  a 
duty,  27;  in  youth,  30;  is  practical, 
•31 ;  dignity  of,  32  ;  in  Guernsey,  48; 
object  of,  80 ;  is  Order,  81 ;  of  upper 
classes,  82 ;  rules  for,  105 ;  limits  of, 
106 ;  is  a  dignity  and  satisfaction, 
109 ;  is  conservative,  124 ;  and  build- 
ing societies,  126 ;  of  Frenchmen 
and  Belgians,  132 ;  of  private  sol- 
diers, 150-152;  lessons  in,  163;  of 
great  generals,  210 ;  of  French  work- 
men, 250,  251 ;  leads  to  charity,  306. 

Thriftlessness,  of  savages,  14 ;  of  na- 
tions, 21 ;  of  individuals,  22 ;  selfish- 
ness of,  26 ;  dependence  of,  28 ;  cru- 
elty of,  29, 129 ;  in  prosperous  times, 
39,  43 ;  of  English  workmen,  49,  50, 
55-71, 107, 150, 157. 

Tottenham  Savings-bank,  144. 

Trades-unions,  116. 

Typhus  a  preventable  disease,  355. 

Unoiyilized  condition  of  the  poor, 
45. 

Ventilation,  337, 333. 

Wages  of  working-classes,  55-63,  70, 
141. 

Wakefield,  Miss  Priscilla,  and  savings- 
banks,  144. 

Walker,  Robert,  84-86. 

Walpole,  Horace,  on  bargains,  30. 

Walter,  J,,  on  pride  in  work,  249. 

Washington,  George,  and  slaves,  315, 

Waterlow,  S.,  332. 

Watt,  James,  89. 

Wealth,  by  labor,  14 ;  and  poverty,  43, 
44. 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  on  military  sav- 
ings-banks, 149. 

Wesley,  J.,  his  account-keeping,  106. 

Whitworth,  J,,  and  co-operation,  241. 

Wiuckelman,  93. 

Woman,  influence  of,  161,  342,  343,  3S3, 
384. 

Women  require  to  be  taught,  physiol- 
ogy, 366;  domestic  economy,  367; 
arithmetic,  ibid. ;  cooking,  368. 

Working-men,  definition  of,  20 ;  thrift- 
lessness of,  38;  wages  of,  55-63,  70: 
extravagance  of,  55-65;  want  of 
eelf-respect  among,  70  ;  neglect  op- 
portunities, 71;  want  knowledge, 
ibid. ;  co-operation  among,  114, 115 ; 
strikes  among,  116,  117 ;  their  abil- 
ity to  save,  153,  154;  do  not  much 
use  the  savings-banks,  175. 

Wycherley  and  debt,  291, 


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LIVINGSTONE'S  LAST  JOURNALS.  The  Last  Journals  of  David  Living- 
stone, in  Central  Africa,  from  1865  to  his  Death.  Continued  by  a  Nar- 
rative of  his  Last  Moments  and  Sufferings,  obtained  from  his  Faithful 
Servants  Chumah  and  Susi.  By  Horace  Waller,  F.R.G.S.,  Rector  of 
Twywel!,  Northampton.  With  Maps  and  Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 
Cheap,  Popular  Edition,  Svo,  Cloth,  with  Map  and  Illustrations,  $2  50. 

SWINTON'S  BIBLE  WORD-BOOK.  Bible  Word-Book :  A  Glossary  of 
Scripture  Terms  which  have  Changed  their  Popular  Meaning,  or  are  no 
longer  in  General  Use.  By  William  Swinton,  Author  of  "Harper's 
Language  Series,"  "Word-Book,"  "Word-Analysis,"  &c.  Edited  by 
Prof.  T.  J.  CoNANT,  D.D.     16mo,  Cloth,  $1  00. 

SMILES'S  BOOKS  FOR  YOUNG  MEN.  Self-Help.  —  Character.  —  Thrift. 
By  Samuel  Smiles.    3  vols,  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50  each. 

FLAMMARION'S  ATMOSPHERE.  The  Atmosphere.  Translated  from  the 
French  of  Camille  Flammarion-.  Edited  by  James  Glaisher,  F.R.S., 
Superintendent  of  the  Magnetical  and  Meteorological  Department  of  the 
lioyal  Observatory  at  Greenwich.  With  10  Chromo-Lithographs  and  86 
Woodcuts.    Svo,  Cloth,  $6  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $S  25. 

HUDSON'S  HISTORY  OF  JOURNALISM.  Journalism  in  the  United  States, 
from  1690  to  1872.    By  Frederick  Hudson.     Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

PIKE'S  SUB-TROPICAL  RAMBLES.  Sub-Tropical  Rambles  in  the  Land 
of  the  Aphanapteryx.  By  Nicolas  Pike,  U.  S.  Consul,  Port  Louis, 
Mauritius.  Profusely  Illustrated  from  the  Author's  own  Sketches ;  con- 
taining also  Maps  and  Valuable  Meteorological  Charts.  Crown  Svo, 
Cloth,  $3  50. 

TRISTRAM'S  THE  LAND  OF  MOAB.  The  Result  of  Travels  and  Discov- 
eries on  the  East  Side  of  the  Dead  Sea  and  the  Jordan.  By  H.  B.  Tris- 
tram, M,A.,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.,  Master  of  the  Greatham  Hospital,  and  Hon. 
Canon  of  Durham.  With  a  Chapter  on  the  Persian  Palace  of  Mashita, 
by  Jas.  Ferguson,  F.R.S.  With  Map  and  Illustrations.  Crown  Svo, 
Cluth,  $2  50. 

SANTO  DOMINGO,  Past  and  Present ;  with  a  Glance  at  Hayti.  By  Samttei. 
Hazard.    Maps  and  Illustrations.    Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 


Harper  6^  Brothers*  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works.         3 

THE  TREATY  OF  WASHINGTON:  its  Nejjotiation,  Execution,  and  the 
Discussions  Relating  Thereto.  By  Caleb  Ccshing.  Crown  8vo,  Cloth, 
$2  00. 

PRIME'S  I  GO  A-FISHING.  I  Go  a-Fishing.  By  W.  C.  Pbimk.  Crown  8vo, 

Cloth,  $2  50. 

SCOTT'S  AMERICAN  FISHING.  Fishing  in  American  Waters.  By  Genio 
C.  SooTT.    With  170  Illustrations.     Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

SCHWEINFURTH'S  HEART  OF  AFRICA.  The  Heart  of  Africa ;  or, 
Three  Years'  Travels  and  Adventures  in  the  Unexplored  Reg-ions  of  the 
Centre  of  Africa.  From  1SG3  to  ISTl.  By  Dr.  Georo  Schweinftjrtu. 
Translated  by  Ellek  E.  Frewer,  With  an  Introduction  by  Winwooi> 
Reabe.  Illustrated  by  about  130  Woodcuts  from  Drawings  made  by  the 
Author,  and  with  Two  Maps.     2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $S  00. 

AINCENT'S  LAND  OF  THE  WHITE  ELEPHANT.  The  Land  of  the 
White  Elephant:  Sights  and  Scenes  iu  Southeastern  Asia.  A  Personal 
Narrative  of  Travel  and  Adveutiu-e  in  Farther  India,  embracing  the 
Countries  of  Burma,  Siam,  Cambodia,  and  Cochin-China  (1871-2)^  By 
Frank  "Vincent,  Jr.  Magnificently  Illustrated  with  Maps,  Plans,  and 
numerous  Woodcuts.    Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

ANNUAL  RECORD  OF  SCIENCE  AND  INDUSTRY.  Prepared  by  Spen- 
cer  F.  Baiep,  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution, with  the  Assistance  of  Emi- 
nent Men  of  Science.  Now  ready,  the  volumes  for  1871, 1872, 1873, 1S74, 
1875.    12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00  per  volume.    The  volumes  sold  separately. 

POETS  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY.  The  Poets  of  the  Nine- 
teenth Century.  Selected  and  Edited  by  the  Rev.  Rouert  Aris  Wili.- 
>ioTT.  With  English  and  American  Additions,  arranged  by  Evert  A. 
DcYCKiNOK,  Editor  of  •'Cyclopredia  of  American  Literature."  Compris- 
ing Selections  from  the  Greatest  Authors  of  the  Age.  Superbly  Illus- 
trated with  141  Engravings  from  Designs  by  the  most  Eminent  Artists. 
In  Elegant  small  4to  form,  printed  on  Superfine  Tinted  Paper,  richly 
bound  in  extra  Cloth,  Beveled,  Gilt  Edges,  $5  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $5  50  ;  Full 
Turkey  Morocco,  $9  00. 

THE  REVISION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  VERSION  OF  THE  NEW  TESTA- 
MENT. With  an  Introduction  by  the  Rev.  P.  Scuaef,  D.D.  CIS  pp., 
Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

This  work  embraces  in  one  volume  : 
L  ON   A  FRESH  REVISION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  NEW   TESTA- 
MENT.    By  J.  B.  Lightioot,  D.D.,  Canon  of  St.  Paul's  and  Hnl- 
Feu  Professor  of  Divinity,  .Cambridge.    Second  Edition,  Revised. 
196  pp. 

II.  ON  THE  AUTHORIZED  VERSION  ON  THE  NEW  TESTA- 
MENT in  Connection  with  some  Recent  Proposals  for  its  Revision. 
By  Richard  Chenevix  Trench,  D.D.,  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  194  pp. 
III.  CONSIDERATIONS  ON  THE  REVISION  OP  THE  ENGLISH 
VERSION  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT.  By  C.  J.  Ellioott,  D.D. 
Bishop  of  Gloucester  and  Bristol.    17S  pp. 

MOTLEY'S  DUTCH  REPUBLIC.  The  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic.  By 
John  Lotheop  Motley,  LL.D.,  D.C.L.  With  n  Portrait  of  William  of 
Orange.    3  vols. ,  Svo,  Cloth,  $10  50. 

MOTLEY'S  UNITED  NETHERLANDS.  History  of  the  United  Nether- 
lands :  from  the  Death  of  William  the  Silent  to  the  Twelve  Years'  Truce 
— 1C09.  With  a  full  View  of  the  English-Dutch  Struggle  against  Spain, 
and  of  the  Origin  and  Destruction  of  the  Spanish  Armada.  By  Jons 
Lotheop  Motley,  LL.D.,  D.C.L.     Portraits.     4  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $14  00. 

MOTLEY'S  LIFE  AND  DEATH  OF  JOHN  OF  BARNEVELD.  Life  and 
Death  of  John  of  Barneveld,  Advocate  of  Holland.  With  a  View  of  the 
Primary  Causes  and  Movements  of  "  The  Thirty  Years'  War."  By  Johm 
LoTHROP  Motley,  D.C.L.,  Illustrated.    In  Two  Vols.    Svo,  Cloth,  $7  00. 

HAYDN'S  DICTIONARY  OF  DATES,  relating  to  all  Ages  and  Nations. 
For  Universal  Reference.  Edited  by  Bicn.tamin  Vinoent,  Assistant  Secre- 
tary and  Keeper  of  the  Library  of  the  Roval  Institution  of  Great  Britain  ; 
and  Revised  for  the  Use  of  American  Readers.  Svo,  Cloth,  |5  00  ;  Sbeep, 
$G  00.  1  » ••         ,  1 » 


J 


4  Harper  &^  Brothers'  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works. 

WALLACE'S  MALAY  ARCHIPELAGO.  The  Malay  Archipelago:  the 
Land  of  the  Orang-Utan  and  the  Bird  of  Paradise.  A  Narrative  of  Trav« 
el,  1S51-1S62.  With  Studies  of  Man  and  Nature.  By  Ai.freu  Ecrsei. 
Wallace.  With  Ten  Maps  and  Fifty-one  Elegant  Illustrations.  Crown 
8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

WHYMPER'S  ALASKA.  Travel  and  Adventure  in  the  Territory  of  Alas- 
ka, formerly  Russian  America — now  Ceded  to  the  United  States— and  in 
various  other  parts  of  the  North  Pacific.  By  Frekebiok  Wutmpeu. 
With  Map  and  Illustrations.    Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

ORTON'S  ANDES  AND  THE  AMAZON.  The  Andes  and  the  Amazon ;  or. 
Across  the  Continent  of  South  America.  By  James  Okton,  M.A.,  Pro> 
fessor  of  Natural  History  in  Vassar  College,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y.,  and 
Corresponding  Member  of  the  Academy  of  Natural  Sciences,  Philadel- 
phia. With  a  New  Map  of  Equatorial  America  and  numerous  Illustra- 
tions.   New  and  Enlarged  Edition.    Crown  Svo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

WINCHELL'S  SKETCHES  OF  CREATION.  Sketches  of  Creation:  a 
Popular  View  of  some  of  the  Grand  Conclusions  of  the  Sciences  in  ref- 
erence to  the  History  of  Matter  and  of  Life.  Together  with  a  Statement 
of  the  Intimations  of  Science  respecting  the  Primordial  Condition  and 
the  Ultimate  Destiny  of  the  Earth  and  the  Solar  System.  By  Alexan- 
der Winouell,  LL.I).,  Chancellor  of  the  Syracuse  University.  With 
Illustrations.     12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

WHITE'S  MASSACRE  OP  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW.  The  Massacre  of  St. 
Bartholomew :  Preceded  by  a  History  of  the  Religious  Wars  in  the  Reiga 
of  Charles  IX.  By  Henry  Wuite,  M.  A.  With  Illustrations.  Svo,  Cloth, 
$1  75. 

LOSSING'S  FIELD-BOOK  OF  THE  REVOLUTION.  Pictorial  Field-Book 
of  the  Revolution  ;  or.  Illustrations,  by  Pen  and  Pencil,  of  the  History, 
Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  War  for  Independ- 
ence. By  Benson  J.  Lobsing.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $14  00 ;  Sheep,  $15  00 ; 
Half  Calf,  $18  00 ;  Full  Turkey  Morocco,  $22  00. 

LOSSING'S  FIELD-BOOK  OF  THE  WAR  OP  1812.  Pictorial  Field-Book 
of  the  War  of  1812 ;  or.  Illustrations,  by  Pen  and  Pencil,  of  the  History, 
Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  Last  War  for  Ameri- 
can Independence.  By  Benson  J.  Losbing.  With  several  hundred  En- 
gravings on  Wood,  by  Lossing  and  Barritt,  chiefly  from  Original  Sketch- 
es by  the  Author.  1088  pages.  Svo,  Cloth,  $T00;  Sheep,'$8  50;  Half 
Calf,  $10  00. 

ALFORD'S  GREEK  TESTAMENT,  The  Greek  Testament :  with  a  crit- 
ically revised  Text ;  a  Digest  of  Various  Readings ;  Marginal  References 
to  Verbal  and  Idiomatic  Usage ;  Prolegomena  ;  and  a  Critical  and  Exe- 
getical  Commentary.  For  the  Use  of  Theological  Students  and  Minis- 
ters. By  Henry  Alfobb,  D.D.,  Deau  of  Canterbury.  Vol.  I.,  contain- 
ing the  Four  Gospels.    944  pages,  Svo,  Cloth,  $6  00;  Sheep,  $6  50. 

ABBOTT'S  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  The  History  of  Frederick  the 
Second,  called  Frederick  the  Great.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  Elegantly 
Illustrated.    Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

ABBOTT'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  The  French 
Revolution  of  1789,  as  viewed  in  the  Light  of  Republican  Institutions. 
By  JouN  S.  C.  Abbott.    With  100  Engravings.    8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  The  History  of  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte. By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  With  Maps,  Woodcuts,  and  Portraits  on 
Steel.    2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $10  00. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON  AT  ST.  HELENA ;  or,  Interesting  Anecdotes  and 
Remarkable  Conversations  of  the  Emperor  during  the  Five  and  a  Half 
Years  of  his  Captivity.  Collected  from  the  Memorials  of  Las  Casas, 
O'Meara,  Montholon,  Antoramarchi,  and  others.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott. 
With  Illustrations.    Svo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

ADDISON'S  COMPLETE  WORKS.  The  Works  of  Joseph  AddisoB,  em- 
bracing the  whole  of  the  "Spectator."  Complete  in  3  vols.,  Svo,  Clotiv 
$6  00. 


